


The Labours Of Kassandra

by Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Death, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic/pseuds/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic
Summary: What could go wrong with Phoibe as your wingman?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's probably more M rated but I wanted to err on the side of caution.

The carter was struggling with Nephele’s trunk as Kassandra sauntered over with studied casualness.

“Allow me,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, making him jump and look around suspiciously.

Recognising her, he gave a sigh of relief.

“Be my guest misthios, you’re stronger than me.” He dropped the trunk at her feet.

A little rude, thought Kassandra, he could have just handed it over.

“If I may, miss?” she smiled at Nephele and bent to lift.

“Thank you misthios, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all,” Kassandra smirked. “Lead the way, please.”

 

Phoibe was sitting on the dockside, trailing her toes in the water and gnawing on a chunk of carrot. She took in the interaction with a puzzled expression.

Why was Kassandra being so...weird? She knew why she was carrying the woman’s trunk of course. But why was she being so...weird about it? And “Miss” Phoibe had never heard her call anyone “Miss” in all the months she’d been with her.

Kassandra had an eye for a pretty lady, she knew all about that. And this one was very pretty, she thought, eyeing her appraisingly.

One afternoon, sitting in the sun with Clio, peeling vegetables, Phoibe had raised the subject of Kassandra’s frequently ingratiating behaviour towards the womenfolk of the island.

Clio had affably, and with astonishing restraint for Clio, explained just _how_ fond Kassandra was of pretty ladies. Phoibe had given this some thought. She didn’t recall hearing about anything like this before, but on reflection it made perfect sense.

After all, she reasoned, none of the boys on Kephallonia were good enough for Kassandra. Kassandra was the best.

She had only a stubby, leafy bit of carrot left now. She tossed it into the water and got to her feet. Brushing her hands together she ambled over to the couple.

“If you’ll allow me,” Kassandra was saying, rather wheedlingly, Phoibe thought. “I could take this down to your cabin?”

“Kassandra, Kassandra!“ Phoibe tugged at her belt on hearing this. “Kassan...”

“Yes, Phoibe?” Kassandra responded, with a sigh. “How may I help you?” she withdrew her gaze from Nephele with evident reluctance.

“Are you going down?” Phoibe asked excitedly. She’d never been aboard such a big ship. Well not that she could remember anyway. She pushed aside that line of thought.

Kassandra was looking a little taken aback for some reason. Her eyes flitted awkwardly from Phoibe to Nephele and back again.

“What was that?” she hissed.

“If you’re going down to the cabins, can I come, please Kassandra, please?” she bounced excitedly on her toes.

Kassandra’s expression relaxed immediately.

“Can I please? I want to see what it’s like below deck, please?” Phoibe came within an inch of whining.

“Not today Phoibe,“ Kassandra waved a dismissive hand.

“But when then?” Phoibe protested. “They’re getting ready to leave. I’ve never been on a fancy boat like this...please. I won’t get under the feet, I promise. I just want to see what it’s like?”

“Look, Phoibe,” Kassandra was getting a little impatient. “The next time a big ship docks I’ll take you aboard myself, okay? I promise.”

“But that could be ages,” Phoibe complained. Why was she being so unreasonable?

“Phoibe..” Kassandra began, but Nephele cut her off.

“I think what...Kassandra? Was it?” she tilted her head questioningly. “What Kassandra means is that the cabins are very small, and there wouldn’t be room for all three of us at the same time.”

Now this was _really_ weird, Phoibe frowned. What was with all this “is it Kassandra” nonsense?

Phoibe had placed the woman while Kassandra was busy being an ass. She worked for the dressmaker. She was in and out of Selene’s with some regularity, taking garments for altering and repair. She certainly knew who Kassandra was, she was always hanging around there.

What were they playing at? She narrowed her eyes, looked from Nephele to Kassandra and back again.

“Tell you what, Phoibe,” Nephele leaned down and smiled. “When Kassandra has finished in the cabin you can come down and see what it’s like. Would that be all right?”

This was more like it, Phoibe thought, why couldn’t Kassandra have said that? She grinned and nodded happily.

Evidently relieved by this development Kassandra smiled and fished out a coin, tossed it to Phoibe, suddenly the soul of affable largesse.

“That’s a wonderful idea eh, Phoibe? Run along now and get yourself a honey-cake or something while you wait,” she hefted the trunk onto one shoulder and ruffled Phoibe’s hair with her free hand.

Things were looking up Phoibe reflected, Kassandra had given her enough for a cake  _and_ some grilled fish. This deserved some practical thanks.

Kassandra was clearly trying to wheedle her way into the woman’s good graces, and she was doing a piss poor job of it too, Phoibe thought, if she did say so herself.

She should be flexing more. Clio said the ladies loved that.

Never mind! Phoibe would lend a hand. She pocketed her coin and gave Nephele her most charming smile.

“Kassandra is the absolute best,” she cocked her thumb. “And strong too. If you want anything else lifting, Kassandra’s your woman. I once saw her..”

“Thank you, Phoibe,” Kassandra placed a gentle hand over her face, effectively stifling any further assistance. “Run along now before the baker sells out,” she softly pushed her away.

“Well,” Nephele smiled teasingly as she and Kassandra made their way on board. “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were the absolute _best_.”

“I don’t know that I’m the _absolute_ best,” Kassandra hitched the trunk a little higher. “Definitely top three though.”

 

“Is here all right?” Kassandra indicated the foot of the bed. There wasn’t a lot of choice, really, it was a small cabin, the bunk narrow and high, a table against one wall that was barely more than a plank.

“Thank you,” Nephele watched as she lowered her trunk, pushed it neatly against the wall.

It was barely a step for Kassandra to be standing before her, so close Nephele could feel the warmth radiating off her.

“I’m going to miss you, treasure,” she took hold of Nephele’s hips, pulled her close against her.

“And I will miss you too,“ Nephele inclined her head, inviting a kiss.

Kassandra obliged, slipping a hand round the back of Nephele’s neck, holding her firmly as she bent, pressing her lips hard against Nephele's mouth, insinuating her tongue between her lips.

Nephele hesitated for a moment.

“We..we don’t have long,” she sighed.

Nothing new there, but she didn’t say “we don’t have _time_ ” Kassandra noticed, reaching down without breaking the kiss and tugging up the skirts of Nephele’s chiton, feeling the silky skin of her thighs against the back of her hand.

Wrapping her other arm about Nephele's waist she lifted her to perch on the edge of her bunk, roughly parting her knees with a thigh, tugging at her lower lip with sharp teeth. Moving aside the pteruges of her belt, she pulled up the fabric of her own tunic.

“A little higher, please,” she tapped Nephele’s thigh.

Raising it obligingly for Kassandra to straddle, Nephele could feel how hot she was against her skin, even through her underwear, as she bent her head, nipping at the soft flesh of Nephele’s throat.

“Kassandra! “she reminded her breathlessly.

“I know, I know, sweet,” Kassandra gentled her biting. She couldn’t leave marks, nothing to arouse Castor’s suspicions.

She licked wetly up Nephele’s throat, re-tracing the path her teeth had taken moments before and Nephele gave a shuddering sigh, reached down, grabbed Kassandra’s hand and urged it between her thighs.

Kassandra slipped her hand beneath her underwear, smiling into her neck, breathing her name.

Nephele usually kept the hair of her sex trimmed into a neat triangle, but now Kassandra could feel light stubble on the tender flesh of her groin. She hadn’t been anticipating this particular form of goodbye, she realised, and the thought of that was somehow intensely arousing.

She growled low against Nephele's ear and rubbed herself hard against her thigh a couple of times, biting on her ear lobe hard enough to draw a hiss from her lover.

Kassandra quickly slid her fingers between the folds of Nephele's sex, stroking firmly. She was so slippery with arousal that Kassandra could get no friction and she heard Nephele whine with frustration

“I know, I know, treasure,” she laughed softly, moved her hand to rub her through the fabric of her underwear, feeling her hips surge against the pressure, slowly at first but with increasing speed, her rhythm stuttering as she came hard, with a shuddering gasp, fingernails scraping through the skin of Kassandra’s neck, making her hiss with pleasure.

Regaining her breath Nephele raised her thigh a bit more, pressing against Kassandra's sex, lowered her hands, gripped the smooth leather of her belt, pulled tight as Kassandra rutted against her thigh a half dozen times and came, gasping against Nephele’s neck, her head sinking to rest against her shoulder as she heaved a great hitching sigh,

For a couple of minutes their slowing breath was the only sound in the cabin.

“Shit,” Kassandra sighed at last. “I’m tired of this, Nephele.”

“You didn’t _feel_   tired,” Nephele teased, deliberately missing the point and pressing a kiss to Kassandra’s sweaty forehead.

She sighed again and stood upright, lowering Nephele’s skirt, smoothing it down, before adjusting her own clothing.

“You know what I mean,” she casually sucked her fingers clean before drying them on her tunic.

The action drew a low moan from Nephele. She slid down from the bunk, pulled Kassandra down into a languid kiss, catching the hint of herself on her mouth.

“The sneaking around,” Kassandra broke the kiss first. “I’m tired of all the sneaking around.”

Nephele withdrew with a sigh. She’d hoped to avoid all this, pre-departure, but now Kassandra was actually pouting.

“I understand, Kassandra,” she perched on the edge of the bunk, looking down at her feet. She really didn’t want this to become an argument. Didn’t want their last words to be angry ones

“But my pater just isn’t ready for this yet. After my mater’s death, losing his estate, it...it’s all been so much for him to deal with.”

She looked hopefully at Kassandra, but she was avoiding her gaze, nostrils flared. Nephele could see the muscle of her jaw working fiercely.

“Why am _I_   more to deal with though,” she turned her head. “Is it because it’s _me_? Would it be all right if it was some hairy goatherd fucking you?”

Nephele closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Don’t, Kassandra, please?” she rested her hands in her lap, lacing and unlacing her fingers. “It would be the same with anyone. He wouldn’t be happy about anyone,” she looked pleadingly up at her. “It just...it wouldn’t help if he found out it was you,” she finished weakly, wondering if she’d said too much.

“Because I’m a misthios?” Kassandra lowered her head, sighed, glanced up at Nephele. “Is that it? Or is there more? Because I’m a woman?”

“I don’t know how he will take you being a woman,” Nephele admitted. “I haven’t...I haven’t had that conversation. But all he knows of mercenaries is what he encountered back home, thuggish debt collectors and assassins.”

Kassandra reflected dismally that there were some who would think Nephele had just described her.

“You’re _the_ misthios here now most of the time, word gets around…about _all_ your activities,” she finished cautiously.

Well that was fair enough, Kassandra thought regretfully, she couldn’t really argue with the fact that she’d had a pretty relaxed attitude to sexual relations once she’d discovered them. It had been bound to come back and bite her eventually, Kephallonia was a small island after all.

She heaved a huge sigh, looked at the ceiling of the cabin. Gods this was a tiny room. She was suddenly glad she wasn’t going with Nephele to visit her sister and the new baby after all, despite what she had been thinking the previous evening.

“Kassandra,” Nephele had got off the bed and come over without her noticing. She leaned cautiously into Kassandra, hugging her left bicep, resting her head against her muscular arm. “Please? Can we not do this now? I don’t want us to argue. I don’t want these to be the memories I take with me. Please?”

“I’m sorry, Nephele,” Kassandra conceded after an over-long pause. “I don’t want us to argue either. I just. Sometimes I...” she struggled to find the words she needed.

“I understand,” Nephele whispered, stroking the hard muscle of her arm, soothingly.

“Do you?” Kassandra turned her head and looked down at her. “Or do you think I just want to be able to fuck you all the time without worrying about your pater finding out?”

Nephele had, honestly, assumed that was a large part of Kassandra’s frustration. She’d heard enough talk in the shops and docks, enough whispering in the dressmakers about the young misthios’ sexual appetite. Though she had noticed a softening in the general attitude since Phoibe's arrival.

“Isn’t that it?” she ventured.

What had just happened was typical of their sex life so far. Fast, desperate, hungry encounters snatched whenever and wherever they could find a few moments privacy. It wasn’t even enough for Nephele, she could only imagine how frustrated Kassandra must be.

“No,” Kassandra looked at her, there was hurt in her eyes, but no surprise. “Well not only that,” she admitted. “Of course I want to be able to make love to you more often. I want to be able to take my time. I want to see you naked, Nephele. I haven’t even seen you fully naked yet! I want to spend all night with you, fall asleep with you, wake up with you in my arms. But...I want to hold your hand on the docks. I want to take you riding in the meadows. I want us all to go to the beach. Take Phoibe swimming.”

She ground to a halt. Nephele felt tears prickling her eyes. She hadn’t expected that.

She reached up and softly cradled Kassandra’s face in her hands, tilting her head downwards so she could rest their foreheads together.

“I’m so sorry Kassandra. I didn’t mean to be unkind,” she breathed, feeling her heave a big sigh. “When I come back let’s talk about this again. We can decide what to do. How to tell him?”

Kassandra raised her head a little, looked in her eyes, smiled softly.

“I’d like that,” she nodded.

Nephele tilted her head, closed her eyes, relaxed into the warmth of the kiss Kassandra gave her. It began softly at first, chaste and lingering, but before long it acquired a hungry edge, Nephele’s hunger as much as Kassandra’s.

“But you _do_ want us to fuck more, right?” Nephele teased, breaking for breath, nudging Kassandra's jaw with her nose.

The laugh she received was genuine, Kassandra hugged her more tightly and, still chuckling, growled in her ear.

“Oh you have no idea!”

“Kassandra! Kassandra! KASSANDRA!!” Phoibe’s fierce yelling broke the mood. “Hurry up. They’re going to set off in a minute and I still haven’t seen the cabin.”


	2. Chapter 2

Later, on their way over to Selene’s for the evening meal, even Phoibe was aware that Kassandra was in no mood to talk. In fact she was downright morose.

Her ill mood continued as they sat around the table. Clio had made stew from some deer meat that Kassandra had provided the previous day. Phoibe was ploughing through her bowl with the concentrated hunger of youth. Usually Kassandra would have kept pace, but today she was pushing the food around her bowl with a disconsolate expression.

Selene was watching Phoibe shoveling her way through the stew, with a fond expression, sometimes the girl reminded her so much of the young Kassandra.

She softly reminded her to slow down, to chew a little. Phoibe nodded and then carried on regardless. Again, very much like a young Kassandra, Selene thought.

Eventually though she had to turn her attention to the spectre at the feast, her mood was laying over the rest of the table like a wet fog.

“Are you not hungry?” she asked, softly. “I could get you something else?”

Kassandra looked up miserably.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s good Clio, really,” she chewed on a reluctant mouthful.

Clio looked about as mollified as the performance warranted.

“Why so miserable?” she asked at last.

“She’s sad because the lady she wants to be her girlfriend left on a boat,” Phoibe explained around a mouthful of food.

All three women turned and fixed Kassandra with a group gaze.

“What do you mean, the girl you _want_   to be your girlfriend?” Clio asked.

“What happened to Nephele then?” Europa frowned, concerned.

“I swear Kassandra,” Selene sighed. “It’s hard to keep up with you sometimes, and we live in a whorehouse.”

“It’s still Nephele,” Kassandra said morosely.

“What?” Clio frowned.

“What!” Kassandra frowned right back.

“Wait, so Nephele left on a boat?” Europa was puzzled. “How come we haven’t heard about that? Has her father left as well? Does that mean the pig farm is vacant?”

“What?” Kassandra’s frown was puzzled now.

“Oh!” Europa suddenly thought. “I’m sorry, Kassandra,” she reached out and patted her hand soothingly. “You really liked her, didn’t you?”

“What?” Kassandra was still puzzled. “She hasn’t _left_ left. She’s gone to visit her sister for a couple of weeks or so. She’s just had a baby.”

“Aw,” Europa was instantly cheered. “What did she have?”

Kassandra suddenly looked a little shifty. There was an awkward pause.

“She doesn’t know,” Clio sighed.

“She’s fuc...she’s her girlfriend,” she quickly corrected with a glance down at Phoibe, but the girl was scraping her bowl with single minded concentration.

“And she has no idea”, she shook her head. “Have a guess Kassandra, you have a roughly fifty fifty chance of being right.”

Kassandra chewed the inside of her lip awkwardly and dredged through the memories of recent conversations. She should have paid more attention, she realised guiltily. After all this meant that Nephele was an aunt now. She had a….she strained her memory...a niece?

“It’s a...girl?” she tried to sound more confident than she felt.

“Well done Kassandra,” Clio gave her a humourless smirk. “It’s official, you’re a terrible girlfriend. We’ll check your answer when she gets back.”

“But this is good news, no?” Europa laughed. “A new baby and she’s only gone to visit. Why so sad?”

“Mmmm?” Clio, poured wine for them all, filled Phoibe’s cup with water. “I know you’re a veritable beast in the bedroom Kassandra, but surely even you can...er...sort yourself out for a fortnight or so?” she cast a glance down at Phoibe.

For her part, Phoibe was only half listening to the conversation, she was considerably more interested in Kassandra’s abandoned bowl.

It wasn’t like her to leave food untouched and Phoibe knew from experience that you should grab your opportunities as they arose.

Europa read her mind and pushed Kassandra’s bowl towards the girl.

“There you go Phoibe,” she said kindly, adding a chunk of bread to it. ”I don’t think Kassandra’s really feeling hungry.”

“No, she’s too busy being mistress mopey pants because it’s just her and lady palm for a fortnight,” Clio, leaned back in her chair, took a sip of wine.

“It’s not that!” Kassandra snapped sharply.

“This is so, so good Clio,” Phoebe mumbled through a mouthful of stew, “thank you.”

“You are most welcome Phoibe,” she smiled, "It gives me pleasure to see you enjoy it.”

“Who’s Lady Palm?” Phoibe wiped a dribble of gravy from her chin with the back of her hand.

Clio opened her mouth and received a warning kick under the table from Kassandra.

“No one you know, my sweet,” Selene intervened serenely. “But you’ll meet her before long. So, if enforced celibacy isn’t the problem, is your low mood cause by something else, are you just generally pining for the girl?”

Kassandra was turning her wine cup slowly round and round between her palms.

“Her pater doesn’t like me,” she grumbled after a while.

Selene raised her eyebrows.

“I thought her pater didn’t know you existed?” she queried. “At least in relation to his daughter.”

“And besides,” Clio smiled encouragingly. “He won’t be the first angry pater you’ve had to deal with, no?”

“ _We’ve_  had to deal with,” Selene corrected her, remembering an incident a couple of years previously when Kassandra had come barreling through the house, stark naked, in the middle of the day, pursued by a furious father wielding a shovel.

It had taken all of Selene’s silky diplomatic skills to defuse that particular situation.

“No, no, he doesn’t know yet. At least I don’t think so,” Kassandra sighed.

“Then how can he not like you?” Europa asked, reasonably enough.

“I want Nephele to tell him,” Kassandra looked up at last, everyone was looking at her expectantly, even Phoibe, who was still busily chewing.

“I’m sick of always having to sneak around. I’m sick of hiding and only seeing her for half an hour here and there. I want her to tell him. But she says he’s not going to like me.”

“Why ever would he not like you?” Europa reached over and took her hand, squeezing fondly. “You’re terribly likeable...most of the time.”

“Ohhhh!,”Clio raised her eyebrows. “I know why.”

Europa looked over, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.

Clio explained by way of a expressive hand gesture.

“Really?” Europa was surprised, by the explanation rather than the gesture.

“Not everyone can be an enlightened whore,” Selene observed wryly.

“It’s not _that_...well it’s not only that,” Kassandra shook her head. “He won’t like that I’m a misthios.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Phoibe chimed in, having finished her stew and wiped her bowl clean.

She’d been half listening to the conversation and had some questions about certain aspects, but they could wait. She’d ask Kassandra later, when she was in a better mood. Or perhaps she’d ask Clio, she was usually more forthcoming about this sort of thing.

All eyes turned to Phoibe. She pushed her bowl aside and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“People need misthioi,” she began.

“Nice ones like you, anyway,” she gestured to Kassandra.”Not the angry, murdery ones who go round beating people up and stealing their horses. You don’t go round beating people up," awkward glances were exchanged around the table.

“At least not for no reason,” Phoibe conceded. “When you beat someone up they’ve asked for it, or someone else has asked for it for them, but anyway you’ve always got a good reason for it. And you help people, you’re always finding stuff for people and killing wolves and running errands.”

There was general nodding.

“Who would have chased those bandits off from the lumber yard if we didn’t have you? Who would have killed those wolves that were eating widow Agape’s chickens if we didn’t have you?”

She paused thoughtfully and swallowed hard.

“Who would have found my mater and pater if we didn’t have _you_?”

Clio said nothing but reached out and put a comforting arm about her.

“If he doesn’t want to like you, he should at least get to know you first,” Phoibe recovered herself. "He can’t just decide he doesn’t like you before he’s even met you. He needs to get to know you before he decides he doesn’t like you.”

There was a thoughtful silence, eventually broken by Kassandra.

“Thank you Phoibe,” She gave her a soft smile. “I think.”

There was a long pause, before Phoibe eventually spoke.

“I’ve got a brilliant idea,” she grinned delightedly. She looked around at the women’s expectant gazes.

“You’ve just got to let him get to know you before he finds out you’re Nephele’s girlfriend. Show him how nice you are,” she gestured excitedly.

“Talk to him, offer to do misthios type things for him, but _good_ misthios type things, not beating people up, I mean unless he wants you to beat someone up, I suppose,” she was in danger of getting derailed.

“Anyway, let’s pretend he’s _not_ going to ask you to beat someone up. He has a farm, there’s always work on a farm, go and offer to do some of it for him, get chatting, let him see how great you are. You’re the best, Kassandra, of course he’s going to like you when he gets to know you. He’s only seen you stomping around in your armour looking all dangerous. He doesn’t know how great you are yet. Then by the time Nephele gets back you two will be standing on the dock together, with flowers and he’ll be all, “welcome home lovely daughter, here I am with your wonderful girlfriend, Kassandra”. It’ll be fantastic!”

“Yeah, let him see the softer side of Kassandra,” Clio laughed.

“You know, it’s not an awful idea,” Selene said thoughtfully. “I believe Phoibe is suggesting a charm offensive. It could work you know.”

“And if it turns out that he finds you less charming and more offensive, at least there’ll be a good reason behind it,” Clio pointed out, not unreasonably.

Kassandra considered this for a few moments, sipping her wine thoughtfully.

She could do this, hunt some wolves, gather some wood, mend the odd roof, be polite and affable. It was a good idea.

She could feel her mood lifting considerably already.

“Phoibe, that is a good idea!” she grinned. “I’ll start tomorrow.”

She looked down at the table.

“What happened to my stew?”

“I ate it! “Phoibe gestured widely. “And _we_ start tomorrow!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Chaire my friend,” Kassandra approached Castor, every inch “hail fellow well met”

He looked up from his bucket of vegetable scraps and his expression became wary as he recognised his visitors.

“What can I do for you, misthios?” he put down the bucket, wiped his hands on the front of his tunic and approached the gate.

“No, no my friend,” Kassandra grinned broadly. “I am here to see what I can do for you! Castor? Is it?”

“Indeed,” he eyed her suspiciously. “It’s Kassandra, no?”

“That’s me,” Kassandra crossed her arms and drew to her full height.

Phoibe thought she should rein it in a little and tugged at her elbow.

“And this is my young associate, Phoibe,” she looked down and patted Phoibe’s head. A little patronizingly, Phoibe thought, but she’d let it pass for now.

Castor looked at the little girl for the first time and his face softened.

“Ah yes, Phoibe,” he gave her a sad, kindly smile. “We haven’t met, but I have heard of you, my young friend. Are you well?”

“Very, thank you,” Phoibe smiled politely. “Kassandra takes very good care of me. Thank you for asking. What a lovely farm you have.”

It was a compliment that would never have occurred to Kassandra she thought, wrinkling her nose against the sharp stink of pig shit.

Could the man not have had a vineyard or an orchard? Something that didn’t make your eyes water.

“Thank you Phoibe,” Castor smiled. “Do you like pigs then?”

“I don’t... _not_ like them,” Phoibe decided.

He laughed and seemed surprised himself by his reaction.

He had the air of a man who hadn’t laughed for a while, Kassandra thought.

“Then you have not come to visit the pigs?” he looked at Kassandra, wary again.

“Not _technically_ , no,” she conceded. “I realised as we passed by the other day that you and your...you have the one daughter I believe?”

Ooooh, thought Phoibe, she really needed to reel it in.

Castor’s look sharpened.

Kassandra moved on.

“That you had been here for some time and I had not been by to greet you, to introduce myself.”

“Do you introduce yourself to _all_ new arrivals, misthios?” he leaned on the gate and looked up at her. “Or is it just the ones with pretty daughters?”

Phoibe winced, Kassandra was letting this get away from her.

“No, no, Kassandra visits all new arrivals,” she stepped between them. “It’s a...service she offers. She likes to see if there’s anything she can do, to help out, help people settle in. Free of charge of course.”

If looks could have killed, Phoibe would not have had to concern herself about whether it was going to be rabbit stew that evening.

Castor looked just as disbelieving. He narrowed his eyes, glanced from Phoibe’s cheerful open expression to Kassandra’s look of wounded betrayal.

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a misthios going round welcoming people to the district,” he said, suspiciously. “And I'm absolutely sure I’ve never heard of one doing something for nothing.”

“ _That_ , my friend, is because you’ve never met Kassandra,” Phoibe puffed out her chest proudly. “She’s not like other misthioi. She’s one of the good ones. In fact, she’s the best.”

She grinned up at Kassandra with the air of one showing off a prize winning horse, before continuing.

“We’re a bit late and we’re sorry about that,” she shrugged. "But she’s all yours now, all day, anything your heart desires,” she finished with a flourish.

Castor was eyeing them both oddly now.

This wasn’t going to work after all, Kassandra sighed.

“Anything?” he asked slowly, looking from Kassandra to Phoibe.

“Anything!” she beamed.

“Er, nothing... _weird_ ,” Kassandra qualified carefully, glancing at Castor. She had her lines in the sand after all.

“Oh-kay?” Phoibe frowned. “Nothing.. _.weird_ then. But you seem like a very nice man, not the type to ask for anything weird I’m sure.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Very well then," Castor nodded, opening the gate. “This way misthios.”

 

Passing his farm on previous occasions Kassandra had never really considered how many pigs Castor had.

Nor had she ever considered how much shit a pig could produce.

It turned out that the answer to both questions was, more than she would have imagined.

She was literally shin deep in it now. Thankfully she’d had the good sense to take off her sandals. They would be the only thing about her _not_ covered in manure by the end of this she reflected miserably.

The sound of laughter made her turn round, nearly losing her balance in the slimy mud.

Castor and Phoibe were leaning over the gate to the next pen, feeding treats to a huge spotted sow.

“She’s so shaggy!” Phoibe laughed delightedly. “I didn’t know they were so shaggy.”

“I’ll kill her,” thought Kassandra as one of the occupants of her own pen lumbered over and began to nose at her pocket.

“Get off, pig,” she shoved against it. The beast was an ambulatory slab of muscle and fat, it didn’t move.

“So, have you always kept pigs?” Phoibe asked politely. "Back in Phokis, was it? Is that where your other daughter still lives? Jocasta is it? The one you were saying has just had a baby? That’s exciting isn’t it? Do you have any other grandchildren?”

All right, Kassandra reconsidered, maybe she wouldn’t kill her.

The pig began to pull quite hard at the pocket of her tunic. The decent tunic that she’d put on that morning in order to make a good impression.

“Get OFF, pig,” she snarled and gave a huge shove.

The pig snorted, disgusted and lumbered off unexpectedly, leaving Kassandra sprawled in the stinking mud.

“I'd love some figs, thank you Castor,” Phoibe's happy voice rang out. “So Nephele’s your younger daughter? She works at the dressmaker’s right? A drink? Oh yes please." Their voices tailed away.

No, no, she was _definitely_ going to kill her, Kassandra decided, struggling to her feet.

 

The howls of outrage that greeted Kassandra as she tried to walk into Selene’s that afternoon were loud enough to attract a bit of a crowd in the street outside.

“Out, out, out!” Selene was pushing her back to the door with a broom.

“But Selene," Kassandra protested as Phoibe slipped past her, inside and straight to the kitchen. “I need to wash.”

“Yes, you do, but you’re not coming through the house, go over the wall,” Selene gave her a final swat with the broom. "You’re good at that.”

 

When she stopped laughing for long enough to speak, Clio had agreed to help.

She put on her oldest, most threadbare chiton, the one she used for cleaning the floors. With the skirts belted up at her waist, she was now standing in the yard pouring bucket after bucket of cold water over a naked, shivering Kassandra.

“The things you’ll do for love,” she laughed, filling another bucket, “or whatever it is that you two have got going.”

She surveyed the yard. Much of it was covered in a thin slurry of mud and pig shit.

“I’ll tell you something for nothing though...brace yourself,” she emptied the bucket over Kassandra’s head. “ _You’re_ cleaning this yard afterwards, because this right here is the extent of my assistance. At least tell me you were successful?”

“I spent the entire day shoveling shit, Clio,” Kassandra said snippily. “I barely exchanged a dozen words with the man. It was an entire waste of time.”

“Actually we had a very successful day," Phoibe appeared at the door crunching at an apple.

“Really?” Kassandra shivered. “Which pig farm did _you_ spend the day at? Because the one _I_ was at just had me swimming in shit all day.”

Phoibe sat down by the door and surveyed the pitiful scene.

“I was at the one where I learned that Castor’s wife died after being sick for a long, long time and that he spent all the family money paying healers and oracles and stuff. That’s why they’re here. He still gets all teary when he talks about her,” she took another huge bite and chewed thoughtfully for a while.

“His other daughter, Jocasta,  still lives in Phokis, she’s just had a little girl, so you were right about that, Kassandra,” she nodded.

Kassandra shot Clio a glance.

“Lucky guess, Kass,” she smiled.

Phoibe was wiping juice from her chin.

“He misses her very much and he would have liked to go and visit her too but someone had to look after the farm. It took most of the money he'd managed to save, to pay for Nephele to visit. He worries about Nephele a lot,” she took another bite. “He had some bloke lined up for her to marry but he shot off when the money disappeared.”

“This is all very well,” Kassandra tried to disguise how impressed she was. “But how does any of this get me any closer to Nephele. I could have found this out by asking her.”

“Hold your horses,” Phoibe, mumbled around a final mouthful of apple. “While he was telling me all this I was telling him about you, all the great things you do, how many people you’ve helped round here. I even told him a bit about, about...you and me," she avoided their gaze.

“And then he told me that, hmm, maybe you weren’t as dodgy as he’d thought, that you clearly had a kind heart, even if you were a bit...what was the word...profitable...prof..gate or something.”

“Profligate,” Clio laughed. “That’s your middle name isn’t it, or is that still "danger"?”

Kassandra gave her a sharp look.

“That’s it,” Phoibe pointed delightedly. “What does that mean?”

“She’ll tell you later, I’m sure,” Kassandra got to her feet, shivering. “What else?”

“He was very impressed with your shit shoveling skills,” Phoibe beamed.

“We’re going back tomorrow,” she got to her feet, tossing the apple core across the yard into the bushes.

“He wants a latrine pit digging. Europa says food’s nearly ready, by the way," she turned and went back into the kitchen.

“Gods, Kassandra,” Clio grinned, leaning close against her. “Just a latrine pit to go, the girl’s so close you can practically _taste_ her, right?”


	4. Chapter 4

Digging the pit wasn’t as viscerally unpleasant as dealing with an ocean of pig shit, Kassandra reflected, eyes stinging with sweat. But it was even harder work.

Her back was aching, her shoulders were aching, her legs were...actually _everything_ was aching, she decided.

And it smelt like the grave down here.

Off across the yard she could hear Castor and Phoibe deep in conversation.

 

“He thinks you’re probably not as bad as he thought from all the gossip... sounds like there’s a _lot_ of gossip about you Kassandra, but he wouldn’t say what,” Phoibe was crushing lumps of soft cheese onto a chunk of bread as the others sat about the table, hanging on her words.

Kassandra was so tired she could barely eat. Everything was going to be so sore in the morning.

“So, has he warmed up to Kassandra?” Europa pushed a plate of sliced tomatoes towards Phoibe.

“Thanks,” she slapped a few pieces atop her bread and cheese.

“He’s warming up, but we’re not there yet. He’d definitely hire you for misthios stuff, for sure. Killing some wolves, collecting some herbs, delivering a necklace, that kind of stuff,” she waved a dismissive hand. “But I don’t think he’s ready for you to be going out with his daughter yet.”

“I’m beginning to think that you’re just not girlfriend material, Kassandra” Clio was sucking chicken meat from the bone.

“Hey,” Selene warned softly.

“She so _is_ ,” Phoibe defended stoutly. “He knows you can shovel, that you’re not afraid of hard work, we need to show him how...how..erm,” she munched thoughtfully, took a swig of water.

“I’m not doing another shit related job, Phoibe,” Kassandra grumbled. “I’m serious. I’d rather not do any more shoveling either. At least not tomorrow anyway. Gods I’m going to be stiff in the morning.”

“I can help with that,” Clio smiled. “I’m very good with my hands,” she wiggled her greasy fingers.

“As you know,” she winked.

Selene cleared her throat meaningfully.

“I have an idea,” Phoibe interrupted. "At least I think so, I can feel it coming. I just need time to think about it.”

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Europa was clearing empty dishes.

“Day off tomorrow,” Phoibe brushed crumbs from her tunic. “He’s done with you for now.”

“What?!” Kassandra looked up. “So, when he just waved me off this afternoon. Bye, misthios, thanks for the help. That was it?

“I’m pretty sure he said, “Bye _Kassandra_ , thanks for the help,” Phoibe pointed out.

“That’s progress,” Europa said, encouragingly.

“You can rest up tomorrow, Kassandra,” Phoibe finished the water and wiped her mouth, went to help Europa with the dishes. “Leave it to me.”

 

Phoibe left for Kassandra’s before business began for the evening.

It was threatening rain as Clio lit the lamps and the first customers began to appear.

Kassandra was tired, stiff and sore and dearly hoped everyone would behave themselves. She stood brooding in the corner, wondering to herself what in Hades she was doing.

She’d just spent two days doing filthy backbreaking work, for no pay, she remembered regretfully.

And she didn’t seem any closer to winning Castor’s favour than she was before she ever met his damn pigs.

She should just call it a day. When Nephele returned they would just tell him and he could react however he wanted.

If Nephele was more concerned about upsetting her father than being with Kassandra then…well, there were other women on Kephallonia after all...

 

“Damn it all,” she thought, sitting wearily in the yard after closing.

It was dark, the stars obscured by heavy clouds and the air was thick and humid. A storm was approaching, she would have to get home soon, before it broke.

Phoibe was afraid of thunder storms and she was home alone.

“Why so sad, handsome?” Clio sauntered out holding two small glasses.

She took a seat next to Kassandra and handed her one of the glasses, it was filled with a slightly oily looking, pale yellow liquid that Kassandra recognised as a spectacularly strong spirit that Selene kept for private use.

“It will all work out,” she leaned against Kassandra and rested her head against her shoulder. “It just seems bad now because she’s not here and your back’s aching I imagine.”

Kassandra took a sip and winced. It burned at first but softened after a moment, warming her chest as she swallowed. Clio was warming her side, her body soft and smelling vaguely of sweat and wine and sex.

You’ve got it bad hmm?” she nudged Kassandra gently. “I don’t remember you ever digging a latrine pit for _me_.”

“You didn’t need one,” Kassandra said, reasonably, and after a pause added. “I don’t want to buy a farm with her Clio, I just enjoy spending time with her. And I’d like to do things with her besides fucking.”

Clio’s eyebrows made a slow journey towards her hairline.

“Well...goodness,” she teased. “The mighty Kassandra wants to go picnicking with her girlfriend.”

“Is that so bad?” Kassandra took another sip, it burned less now.

“No,” Clio patted her arm fondly. “It’s not bad at all. In fact it’s rather sweet. You must be growing up.”

She drained her glass and got to her feet a little wearily, it had been a long night.

“By the way, I meant that about a massage. I know I’m not as good as Europa but, she’s locked in the arms of Adrian. It can be _just_ a massage Kass.”

Kassandra twirled the empty glass between her fingers.

Why not? Her back and shoulders were aching like she’d come off worst in a brawl.

She got to her feet and followed Clio upstairs.

 

It was warm and muggy in Clio’s room, she threw open the shutters but it did little to help, the air was too heavy and still.

From Europa’s room came the faint but unmistakable sounds of happy sex.

“ _T_ _hey_ may buy a farm,” Clio gestured to the dividing wall. “It’s been years now,” she laughed slipping off her chiton, draping it over a chair.

She was naked beneath it and Kassandra swallowed hard. It had been a while since she’d seen Clio naked. Actually, she realised, it had been a little while since she’d seen any woman naked.

Clio had clearly been speaking to her, she was standing, weight on one leg, elbow at her waist holding up a bottle of oil.

“Sorry,” Kassandra shook her head. “I was just thinking.”

“Do I want to know what about?” Clio teased. “Get undressed and get on the bed. Take off your breast band I need to get to your back.”

She sounded very business-like Kassandra thought, undressing and folding her clothes.

She dithered about her loincloth.

“That’s up to you Kass,” Clio shrugged. “I’ll stay above the waist if that’s what you want.”

Kassandra’s head was a little swimmy. She shouldn’t drink that liquor really, it always went right to her head, especially if she hadn’t eaten properly.

“I’ll leave it on I think,” she decided, looking up as Clio walked to the bed, her breasts bouncing a little with each step, hips swaying.

That was just Clio, Kassandra told herself, she shouldn’t read anything into it.

“On the bed then, gorgeous,” Clio smiled and nodded to the bed.

It felt good just to lie down, Kassandra realised. She relaxed a little as soon as she was stretched out, face down, head on folded hands.

The bed smelt of sweat and sex and Clio but none of it struck her as unpleasant, it was familiar somehow.

She gave a big sigh and stretched her shoulders as Clio climbed on the bed, threw a leg over Kassandra, straddled her ass, settled her weight there and ran gentle hands over the expanse of her back.

It was generally acknowledged that Europa gave the best massages, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with Clio’s skills.

She warmed the oil between her palms and began to work at Kassandra’s shoulders, painfully at first, eliciting a groan with each pass. Gradually though the knots eased and Kassandra relaxed.

The room was warm and dim, the bed soft, Clio’s weight familiar and comforting.

She hummed softly as she worked at the muscles of Kassandra’s lower back, pressing firmly, making her squirm a little. Then up her latismus muscles to her arms, smoothing down to her elbows, leaning back up to work at her trapezius, kneading hard at the tight knot near the base of her skull.

With each pass Clio rocked forward, her hips moving against Kassandra’s ass in a familiar rhythm.

The warmth and the liquor were making her drowsy, the soft sound of Clio’s voice, the smooth touch of her hands.

“Er, Kassandra,” Clio stopped.

Why had she stopped?

“Kassandra, I’m beginning to wonder if you _still_ want to keep this above the waist?” she asked softly.

Kassandra realised, a little surprised, that she had been moving her own hips, catching Clio’s rhythm, she glanced over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I was, well I wasn’t...” she had no idea what she really wanted to say.

“No need to apologise,” Clio ran her fingers down Kassandra’s back. Her touch felt far less “therapeutic” now.

“I just need to know what you want, what you _need_ tonight?”

Kassandra thought for a moment.

Why in Hades not?

She’d spent two miserable days and was no richer for it. The woman she was doing it for was hundreds of miles away.

Why should she go back home to her right hand and her lonely bed roll, stifling her cries so Phoibe wouldn’t hear, when warm, willing Clio was right here with her clever hands and cleverer mouth?

She rolled onto her back, drawing an inadvertent moan from Clio as she rubbed against her sex.

“Clio,” she reached out, running her hands up the silky skin of her thighs. “I...”

A sudden startling blue-white flash illuminated the room, followed seconds later by a threatening growl of thunder.

It took Kassandra a moment to register what was happening but as soon as she did, she pushed herself up, instantly sober, nearly dislodging Clio.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck!,” she helped Clio off her lap, struggled off the bed, looking for her clothes. “Phoibe’s on her own.” she explained.

“Oh fuck!,” Clio joined her.

“Here,” she handed Kassandra her tunic, picked up her sandals. “Never mind the breast band, get it tomorrow,” she bent, helping Kassandra into her sandals as she hauled the tunic over her head.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she bent to fasten one sandal while Clio worked at the other.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, go,” Clio pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips, watched her run to the window, slip through it as though she hadn’t been stiff and weary just minutes before.

 

Kassandra sprinted as fast as she had ever done, hastily fastened sandals slipping uncomfortably. The lightning and thunder were hitting almost simultaneously by the time home was in sight.

The quickest way to Phoibe would be up the wall, across the roof where Kassandra slept most nights, down the short flight of stairs to what was now Phoibe’s room.

Fat strokes of rain were painting the dusty path as she covered the last couple of hundred feet, over to the wall, leaping for the lowest handhold, scrabbling up, vaulting over the low wall of the roof terrace.

Grabbing her bedroll as she passed, dragging it down the stairs after her, she almost slid down the steps in her haste to reach Phoibe.

She was sitting on her bed, back to the corner, knees hugged to her chest, pale and wide eyed.

“Phoibe, Phoibe, Phoibe, Phoibe,” Kassandra murmured like an incantation, sliding across the bed, gathering her in her arms.

“I have you, I’m here now, I have you," she held her close, pressing her head against her shoulder, rocking her gently.

“It’s just noise, it’s just noise,” Phoibe was whispering. “It can’t hurt me.”

Kassandra held her, wrapping her tight in her arms, crooning soft nonsense to her until she felt her breathing slow, she flinched at every thunder clap, but less and less with each one.

“I’m sorry Phoibe,” she stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here. Forgive me, please?”

“I’m sorry, Kassandra,” Phoibe sniffed quietly.

“Whatever do _you_ have to be sorry for, little one?” Kassandra pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead.

“It’s just noise, I shouldn’t be scared.”

“Oh Phoibe,” Kassandra pulled her more fully onto her lap, cuddled her close. “It’s all right to be scared sometimes. _Everyone_ gets scared sometimes.”

“ _You_ don’t,” Phoibe muttered after a pause.

Kassandra didn’t reply for a few moments, just rocked Phoibe gently back and forth, stroking her hair.

“No, no Phoibe,” she said at last, voice soft, a little hesitant. “I get scared too.”

“It’s okay Kassandra,” Phoibe shook her head slightly. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending Phoibe, I swear,” Kassandra eased back a little so she could look in her face.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” she took a deep breath, steeled herself. “But...small, dark spaces? They scare me. Remember when we first met? That cave you were camped in? I could never have stayed there. Not ever. You were so brave. Even before I met you, I knew you were brave. I think you’re the bravest girl I ever met.”

The rain was lashing down heavily now, Kassandra could hear it splashing on the top steps. The thunder was receding though, and Phoibe seemed to be calming

“Is it all right if I go and put the hatch down across the stairs?” She looked down at her. “So we don’t get flooded in the night?”

Phoibe nodded, sliding off Kassandra’s lap onto the bed, hugging her knees still, but clearly more relaxed. She watched Kassandra get to her feet and stride over to the steps.

“Kassandra?” she said, listening to her rattling the hatch into place.

“Hmm?” she descended, looked over, smiling fondly.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” Phoibe said, solemnly. “Ever.”

Kassandra made her way over to the bed, sat down by her and invited her back into her embrace.

“Thank you Phoibe, I appreciate that,” she stroked the loose strands of hair back from her face.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the last distant growls of thunder die away.

“I guess Zeus was really pissed about something tonight?” Kassandra teased. “Perhaps Hera found out about another one of his affairs eh?”

“Then Hera should be throwing the thunderbolts,” Phoibe gave a chuckle. “Perhaps she stole them?”

“Yes,” Kassandra grinned. “Take that, you malaka scoundrel!” She mimed a javelin throw.

“Cr-rr-ACK!” Phoibe laughed, jerking her hands, terror forgotten.

When she eventually became drowsy Kassandra tucked Phoibe up in her bed and pushed her own bedroll, damp side down, close against it so she could lay a comforting arm over the girl in the night.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions but it would have to do, the bed was too small for the two of them.

 


	5. Chapter 5

By the morning Phoibe had somehow squirmed off the bed and into Kassandra's arms.

She extricated herself from the embrace as gently as possible, tucked a blanket about her and went to wash, change and rustle up some breakfast for them while the girl slept.

She had just finished re-braiding her hair when the door burst open and Markos entered, a large basket in his arms containing eggs, bread and cheese, a jug of wine in his other arm.

“The canopy has blown off your roof,” he informed her, setting the basket and jug down on the table. “It’s flapping about in the road.”

Kassandra tied off her braid and smoothed down her chiton.

“You just looked at it then?”

“Well excuse _me_ ,” he rolled his eyes. “I should have picked it up in my teeth I suppose? Where’s Phoibe? Is she all right?”

“She’s sleeping in,” Kassandra made for the door. “It was a rough night.”

“Good,” Markos nodded. “Good that she’s sleeping I mean, I have a job for you and I know how she loves to tag along after you. Well, _this_ one? Not so good for her to tag along I think. Go, go get your canopy, I’ll start breakfast.”

He informed her that a ship had run aground in the night, blown off course and wrecked by the storm. The coast was littered with drowned sailors.

Unpleasant, but not really a job for a misthios, Kassandra thought.

That wasn’t what she was required for, Markos explained.

There had been cages among the wreckage. Cages containing wild animals. Most of the unfortunate beasts had drowned before they could escape, but townsfolk, arriving to see what could be done to help had seen two, or maybe three large cats slinking away into the trees. This was why Kassandra’s presence was required.

When Phoibe padded downstairs, lured by the scent of breakfast and the sound of voices, Markos greeted her effusively.

“Phoibe! Good morning! I hope you slept well my young friend? What a terrible storm last night. I must have done something to offend mighty Zeus eh, because he wrecked my chicken house. I came to see if Kassandra could spare you for the day to lend me a hand. You’re small and light, you can help me with the roof.”

Kassandra had been anticipating some form of protest from Phoibe, or at least a display of reluctance, but she seemed quite enthusiastic as she sat at the table and began to eat.

“Of course,” she looked over, “if Kassandra doesn't need me for anything?”

“No, no Phoibe, go help Markos,” she smiled. “I’ll go round the rest of the place, see if anyone needs any help after last night.”

After breakfast Kassandra watched the odd couple walk off in the direction of Markos’ home.

“Thank the gods for you today Phoibe,” she watched him ruffling the girl’s hair. "I am a little too old to be scrabbling around on the chicken house roof, not _old_ you understand just a bit too old for that. And Kassandra is too heavy, the big ox, no? But _you_ , you are perfect for this.”

 

 

She felt a little guilty enjoying herself as much as she was, under the circumstances.

There was a pile of corpses on the beach, human and animal, fires were being built, but Kassandra was making her way through the woods, eyes and ears straining for movement.

It was a joy, all the same, to be away from the wearying menial tasks of the past couple of days, to be out in air that didn’t stink of pig shit, to feel her bow warm and alive in her hands. The prospect of payment, in pelts at the very least, only added to her enjoyment.

What the fuck had she been doing, she laughed to herself, shoveling muck to try and impress Nephele’s father? What was she trying to impress him with? Her suitability as a farmhand?

She was a misthios, a hunter. If he didn’t like that and if Nephele couldn’t deal with his disapproval then there were others who would be content with her as she was.

As she brought down the third cat with a single perfect arrow to the eye she felt better than she had in a while. _This_ was where she belonged, this was an appropriate use of her skills, not digging fucking holes.

The hunt had gone more quickly than she could have hoped and she spent the rest of the day helping with the bodies, assisting with salvage, skinning animals.

By the time the sun began to set she was tired again, but it felt good this time, satisfying.

Selene noticed her buoyant mood as they sat around the table.

Kassandra was enthusiastically destroying a cooked chicken in a way that was a little unnerving if you thought about it too much.

“You seem much happier tonight?” she smiled, watching as Kassandra tore a huge piece of flatbread in two, folded it and began to wipe grease from her plate.

“It’s been a good day,” she explained around a mouthful of food. She stopped herself, chewed and swallowed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Sorry,” she smiled apologetically.

“And I don’t mean a _good_  day. All those sailors, dead. And the poor beasts, drowning in their cages. Not _good_ , but, satisfying? It felt right to be helping that way, to be doing something that I was good at. Doing a job that only _I_ could do. You know?”

“I do,” Selene patted her hand. “And you’re right. We should all play to our strengths, whatever they are. It will be quiet tonight. The men will still be finishing up, getting the last of the salvage. It’s tomorrow they’ll want to fuck away the things they’ve seen. Why not take the night off, go home, get some rest? Spend some time with Phoibe tomorrow.”

Kassandra saw the sense in this and as she walked home in the fading light she found she was humming to herself.

She had her share of the salvage coming in and a generous pile of pelts, when they’d been treated. She could afford to take a day off tomorrow. She and Phoibe should spend the day together, do something Phoibe would like. She had been angling after Kassandra taking her climbing, maybe they could do that?

She thought back to the lynx pelts she had coming.

They were the softest things she had ever felt. They’d be perfect for Phoibe’s bed. Kassandra imagined the girl’s delight at snuggling down in them and she was smiling happily to herself as she approached the house.

Her smile died on her face when she heard the strange growling from the roof.

Stopping, she listened hard.

There it was again.

She didn’t recognise the sound, it was strange, light. Not the growl of a big animal, but then again, those lynx hadn’t been all that big but she still wouldn’t fancy Phoibe’s chances against one.

Checking her quiver as she crept to the wall, she leapt for the familiar handholds and slipped smoothly up the wall, over, and onto the roof terrace.

There was a dark, shadowy shape under the canopy. She could smell it from here, rank, a sweet smell of rot. It growled again, turning clumsily to face her, shaking its horned head erratically.

“What the fuck are _you_?” Kassandra hissed, gagging a little at the stench as it wobbled towards her.

She drew her bow and quickly nocked an arrow.

Time enough to find out when it was dead. She hoped to Hera that Phoibe had stayed with Markos tonight.

She was about to loose her shot when the beast reared upright and waved its...arms?

“No,no no no nononono,” it wailed in panic, flailing about, scrabbling at its skin, casting it off.

“Phoibe?! For fucks sake!” Kassandra lowered her bow, “what in the name of Hades are you doing?! I could have fucking killed you! Have you lost your mind?!”

Her heart was racing in her chest, making her hands tremble and she didn’t know if she wanted to shake Phoibe till her teeth rattled or hug her to her chest and never let her go.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry Kassandra,” Phoibe had dropped the stinking pelts, too near to Kassandra’s bedroll for her liking, she thought, and was waving her hands placatingly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that through,” she smiled apologetically. “But it worked, no?”

“What worked?" Kassandra propped her bow in the corner. “Your plan to put me in an early grave? Fuck’s sake Phoibe,” she took a deep breath, calmed herself.

“You thought I was a monster,” Phoibe grinned, too proud to be much abashed. “Admit it. Just for a little minute you thought I was a monster.”

“I didn’t know _what_ you were,” Kassandra conceded, still annoyed. “What are you playing at? And those skins stink by the way, get rid of them, they haven’t been treated properly, you’re going to make yourself ill. And get them away from my bed.”

“Well Rizon wasn’t going to give me _good_ skins for nothing. And it’s better this way. The stink adds to the effect, don’t you think?"

Nevertheless she was bundling them up and moving them into a corner.

“Ey! No!” Kassandra waved a finger. “I sleep up here. Throw them over the wall.”

“But, I tied the horns on and everything,” Phoibe was clearly reluctant

“I promise you Phoibe, no one is going to want to steal that reeking mess,” Kassandra waved her towards the low wall. “And if you don’t do it, _I_ will. And I can throw them a lot further.”

Phoibe bowed to this logic and dropped the bundle over the wall.

“If it fooled you...just for a second,” she added quickly. “it’s bound to fool Castor.”

“Castor!” Kassandra rolled her eyes.

“Look we’re done with Castor. His pigs are cleaner than they’ve ever been, and he’s got a latrine pit he could never hope to fill if he lived to be a hundred and shit like Herakles every day of it. Just leave the man alone.”

“But Kassandra, there’s just this last thing,” Phoibe pleaded. “It’s the, what’s that word Markos uses? Calm...calm..nation?”

“Culmination,” Kassandra corrected. “And I'm not sure you want to be taking planning advice from Markos. Does he know what we’ve been doing?”

“Pfff, no!” Phoibe snorted scornfully. “Like I’d tell Markos any of my plans. I like him well enough, but he’d steal them. He can’t help himself. No, this is all my idea...again!”

Kassandra led them downstairs.

She needed a cup of wine suddenly.

“See the thing is,” Phoibe was explaining, gesturing enthusiastically. She spent too much time around Markos, Kassandra thought, emptying her cup and quickly refilling it.

“Castor is just worried about Nephele that’s all,” Phoibe continued. “Can I have these grapes? “she fished a bunch out of a shallow bowl on the table.

Kassandra sat down, nodding wearily.

“It’’s understandable,” Phoibe perched on the table, legs swinging, munching happily. “His wife died, he couldn’t do anything about it. He thought he’d got some big, strong bloke to marry Nephele and then he cleared off when she didn’t have any money. Jocasta is hundreds of miles away in Phokis and he can’t even afford to go and see his new granddaughter. He’s a mess.”

“My heart is bleeding,” Kassandra actually did feel a little sympathetic but wasn’t about to let Phoibe know. “All the more reason we should just leave the poor man alone with his pigs.”

“He just wants Nephele to be safe I reckon,” Phoibe chewed thoughtfully. “And _you’re_ just the person aren’t you, really? Big, strong, brave, good looking. I mean I don’t think _he’s_ so bothered about the good-looking bit, but I suppose _she_ is, if you’re wanting to do sex things with her.”

Kassandra inhaled a little wine and coughed.

“Oh don’t get all weird,” Phoibe waved a hand. “I know all about it.”

“And who…? Clio? Has Clio been…?” Kassandra spluttered.

“That’s not important, I just thought it would be nicer for Nephele if she got to do it with someone good-looking and the woman at the grilled fish stall with all the hair says you’re _very_ good-looking, so there you go.” Phoibe shrugged. “We just need Castor to see that you can look after his little girl. That she’ll be safe with you. And I have the perfect idea, it’s _totally_ safe and you don’t need to do any digging.”

“Wait! Does this involve me wearing those stinking skins that you had on?” Kassandra frowned. “Because that’s not happening, Phoibe, I’m serious.”

“No, it involves _me_ wearing them. There aren’t enough to cover you, and besides you need to be the one to kill the beast.”

“What beast?” Kassandra was tired suddenly, she just wanted to lie down, close her eyes. It had been a long day.

“The one that’s going to terrorize Castor’s pig farm tomorrow night,” Phoibe grinned. “The one that’s actually me in the costume. The one Castor is going to see _you_ chase off into the woods and come back with its horns. See, perfect plan? No one gets hurt, but he sees that you could protect his daughter if it came to it.”

“Look, Phoibe,” Kassandra rubbed her face, exhausted. She was too tired to face Phoibe’s buoyant enthusiasm any longer. “Is this the definite last thing? The very last thing you’re going to rope me into? You promise?”

“I swear,” Phoibe nodded. “It can’t fail.”

“Okay.” Getting wearily to her feet Kassandra made her way to the stairs.

“Goodnight Phoibe. The very last thing though," she turned and raised a warning finger.

“Totally the last thing,” Phoibe nodded. “Go rest. I’ll fill you in on all the details tomorrow,” she promised as Kassandra disappeared up the stairs. 

“Phoibe,” her voice drifted down the stairs after a while. “ _Which_   woman at the grilled fish stall?”

“The one with all the red hair,” Phoibe wiped her sticky fingers on her tunic. “I don’t think you’d have had to muck out pigs for _her_ , but you should have thought of that sooner.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

When Kassandra arrived home the following night Phoibe was already sitting at the table, slicing and eating an apple with a smug expression.

Kassandra cocked a quizzical eyebrow.

“It worked perfectly,” Phoibe laughed, “I scared the life out of him, _and_ the pigs. He’ll be begging you for help tomorrow, I guarantee it.”

 

Kassandra was dubious, but sure enough the following morning, the sun had barely warmed the air when there came a knock at the door, and Castor stood there, nervously twisting the hem of his short cloak between his fingers.

“Castor,” Kassandra didn’t bother to hide her surprise, she wasn’t supposed to know about the mysterious beast after all, she reasoned. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so, misthios,” he said, nervously glancing over his shoulder. “I need someone to...well if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes...I feel a fool even saying it...but there it was...”

“Come inside,” Kassandra beckoned him in, pulled out a chair for him, poured a cup of wine.

Phoibe had clearly done a sterling job, the man was grey with shock.

“Thank you,” he drank gratefully, draining the cup. Kassandra refilled it and then leaned back against the wall, arms folded, to listen to the rest of his tale.

“I...Well...there’s no way to say it that doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he sighed. “Last night...last night a...monster attacked my pigs. I know how it sounds, but, I swear, I saw it with my own eyes, huge, dark, hairy with big horns, smelling like the grave...I beg you misthios, please. I don’t have much money, but you can have it all if you’ll just kill this beast.”

“All right Castor,” Kassandra reminded herself to congratulate Phoibe on her performance. “I believe you. Well, I don’t know if it’s a monster, but you clearly saw something. I’ll come along tonight and check things out. If there’s anything lurking around your farm, I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Really? Oh gods bless you, misthios,” he got to his feet and grabbed her hands. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Here, please, take this now.” He fumbled with a small pouch at his belt.

“No, no,” Kassandra stopped him. “Keep your drachmae,” she could hardly take payment for chasing Phoibe into the woods, she sighed. “Consider this the final part of my service to you.”

“I...thank you misthios,” he swallowed. “I...thank you.”

“Go back home Castor,” she opened the door for him.

“Tend to your pigs. Your mysterious beast won’t show its face in the daylight, I’m sure,” she said with some confidence, knowing full well that Phoibe was, even now, sleeping off her late night jaunt in the room above them. “I’ll be along after dark.”

 

 

She and Phoibe had arranged that Phoibe would be in place a couple of hours after sundown and would wait, silently, on the roof of Castor’s shed for Kassandra to appear before beginning her performance.

Kassandra was, therefore, taken aback when Castor came scuttling out of the house as she approached.

“Praise Zeus,” he grabbed her arm, face ashen. “It’s here, it’s in the shed, I can hear it thundering about, overturning things, growling and snarling. Quick, quick please, this way.”

He dragged her round the back of the property towards a large shed.

Kassandra knew from her previous visits that this was where he kept baskets of apples and carrots for the pigs, along with his scraps buckets. He was right, something _was_ blundering around in there.

She was going to have serious words with Phoibe after this.

When you made a plan it was vital to stick with it.

What if Kassandra had been delayed?

How long was she planning on rattling around in there while she waited?

What if Castor had finally overcome his fear and rushed in with a pitchfork?

“Right, Castor,” she stopped at a safe distance. It wouldn’t do to have him get too close. She wasn’t sure how much scrutiny Phoibe’s costume could withstand. “You stay here. Or better still, get over by the door, so you can get inside.”

Did she want him inside out of harm’s way, or would it be better to have him see some of her impressive bravery?

Gods, what in Hades was Phoibe doing in there? She’d convinced him he had a monster infestation, Kassandra was here now, she could turn down her performance a little. Perhaps she hadn’t heard Kassandra arrive?

“Yes, over by the door there, Castor,” she threw her shoulders back and projected. “Get right inside if you feel in danger. But don’t worry. I HAVE THIS ALL UNDER CONTROL.”

She hadn’t missed _that_ Kassandra thought as the noise paused.

Time to stride confidently inside, rattle a few buckets, make some grunting sounds of exertion and then chase Phoibe into the nearby tree cover to dismantle that stinking monster suit.

Kassandra swaggered inside, drawing her sword theatrically as she entered and came face to face with…

A huge fucking bear!

It was hard to tell who was more startled by the encounter.

Kassandra’s jaw dropped, her sword fell limp at her side. The bear, for its part, flailed its head at her, whale eyed with panic, roaring, spraying her with hot wet ropes of spittle and chunks of apple.

The shed was full of bear.

It stank of bear.

Its roars rattled the roof.

There was no room to manoeuvre in here, Kassandra immediately realised. The sword she had worn was too long to use effectively while pinned in a corner by this mammoth creature.

Outside it _was_ then.

She roared right back at the top of her lungs and gave it a taunting blow across the muzzle, enough to provoke, but not able to put enough force behind it to do any real damage.

Turning on her heel she darted out into the yard.

“Castor!” she saw him standing, wide eyed by the door. “Get in the fucking house, right now and don’t come out until I say so.”

He seemed unable to move, looking past her, frozen with fear. She followed his gaze.

The bear was lumbering out after her, blood caking its muzzle, shaking its massive head, roaring in fury.

Kassandra retreated a few paces, drew her spear in her left hand, braced herself. Behind and above her she heard Phoibe hiss from her position on the roof.

“Kassandra, it’s a bear!”

“Thank you, Phoibe,” she rolled her eyes. “I'd noticed.”

She drew back, slowly, trying to lure the beast away from the house and towards the pens.

She could get it away from Phoibe and Castor and get a higher vantage point over there.

The bear had noticed Castor now, dithering wide eyed by the door, it seemed torn with indecision, swinging its shaggy head from him to Kassandra as she swapped her weapons from hand to hand.

“This way,” she hefted the spear in her right. “Over this way, you big, dumb brute,” she yelled, waving her arms wildly.

As the bear turned a little in her direction she drew her right arm back to its fullest extension, slowed her breath, took aim, and released.

The spear flew straight and true, plunging home in the bear’s left eye with a wet crunch.

It screamed in pain, reared up on its hind legs, flailed at its face with massive, dagger clawed paws before dropping back down with a force Kassandra could feel reverberate through her feet. The spear lolled obscenely from its leaking eye socket.

There was no way it was seeing anything on its left side now, Kassandra thought with some satisfaction.

If she could force the spear more fully home it would bring the beast down, she was sure, but its reach was enormous.

The bow would give her more distance. She doubted an arrow would bring down the creature but she could maybe weaken it enough to allow her to get close and slam that spear deeper into its eye socket, through the weak bone and into its brain.

She sheathed her sword, drew her bow, yelling at the bear.

Castor was still standing at the door, she noticed.

“Get in the house, you idiot,” she yelled, nocking a couple of arrows, taking aim at the bear’s head. “Do as I fucking say, Castor!”

She loosed them.

They both hit home, landing in the great muscle of the beast’s jaw, enraging but not really weakening.

She had its undivided attention now. It lowered its head, swung to the left so it could see her with its remaining eye and charged.

Fuck but it was fast, Kassandra realised, as she turned and darted towards the pens.

She wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long and she had to stay to this side of the yard, away from the others. She knew bears could climb almost as well as she could, so any high point advantage would be short lived. But she didn’t need long.

She leapt atop the low wall surrounding one of the pig pens.

For their part the animals were squealing in panic now, terrified by the roaring and shouting, the smell of bear and blood.

Darting along the wall she hopped up onto the roof of the pig shed and turned.

She nocked a single arrow.

The bear was at the wall, just seconds behind her. It seemed to be considering following her path, clawing at the low wall.

If it looked up it would probably realise it could swipe Kassandra off the low roof if it reared to its full height.

She needed to make this shot count.

She took a single huge, chest flexing breath, exhaled slowly, letting any doubt drift away with it, drew the bowstring smoothly, held a moment, and released.

The bear’s anguished scream told her the arrow had found its way to her target, its right eye.

The bear was blind now. Blind, agonized, terrified, furious.

She needed to dispatch it quickly, for the bear’s sake and for everyone’s safety.

 

As she hopped down she was surrounded by a cacophony of bear roars and screaming pigs, her head was ringing with it.

The air stank of pig shit and terrified bear.

She needed to get to its left, slam that spear deep.

Kassandra decided to take the shortest route, hopped onto the wall, scuttled past the bear, hopped down on its left and quickly grabbed the swinging end of the spear.

“You fought bravely, my friend,” she braced herself.

The bear felt the spear twisting in its eye socket, turned instinctively towards the unseen tormentor and lashed out with a massive paw.

The impact nearly knocked Kassandra off her feet.

It certainly punched the wind out of her. Her right arm felt numb from the blow and she was afraid she was going to lose her grip.

Gritting her teeth, she clutched both hands tight around the butt of the spear, braced them against her chest and threw her whole weight behind it.

It sank in a few more inches then stopped, and for a sickening moment, she was afraid it was stuck, that she didn’t have the weight or the strength to drive it that last short distance.

Then the bear helped her.

It lunged forward at her, mad with pain and rage. She stumbled back against the wall of the pen, spear still braced against the centre of her chest, holding tight with hands slippery with her own blood.

There was a dull crunching sound and the spear slid home with a sudden jolt.

The bear gave a great stinking exhalation, spraying Kassandra's face with blood and spit, gnashed its huge yellow teeth blindly, just inches from her face and then slumped down, bringing her with it.

Kassandra lay in the filthy mud, winded and dazed.

Her arm was beginning to really hurt now, a blazing flare of pain extending up to her shoulder and down to her elbow. Had she broken it, she wondered?

The bear, was huge, and heavy. She braced herself, tried to move its great head and shoulders from atop her. It shifted a little but not enough to push it off.

She dug her feet into the dirt, braced her elbows beneath her, arm screaming in pain and jerked her whole body upwards in an obscene parody of lust. The bear slid aside a few inches.

She could hear someone screaming her name now, getting closer and closer.

“Kassandra, Kassandra, are you all right, are you hurt, you’re not dead are you, please, please, please, please, don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Phoibe,” Kassandra forced a smile as the girl dropped to her knees and skidded through the mud to rest at her side.

“It’s okay Phoibe. I’m not dead. Your monster is though,” she grinned horribly, face masked with bear’s blood. “Can you help get it off me? I think I’ve hurt my arm.”

Phoibe looked over, went even paler.

“Oh, Kassandra,” she put a hand to her mouth. “It looks really bad.”

“Oh you think _everything_ looks bad when it happens to me,” Kassandra laughed weakly. “Come on Phoibe, give me a hand, this bear smells nearly as bad as you. You need to throw those stinking skins away after this.”

Phoibe grabbed a hold of two fistfuls of bear fur and pulled with all her strength, to no avail.

“We need to co-ordinate,” Kassandra instructed, beginning to feel a little light headed.

She could do with getting this thing off her and taking a few deep breaths. Gods her arm hurt.

“Castor! Castor!” Phoibe yelled, voice breaking. “Don’t just fucking stand there, come and help.”

“Language, Phoibe,” Kassandra said, weakly.

Castor eventually arrived, hands working mutely at the neck of his tunic, looking from Phoibe to the bear, down to Kassandra.

“Ah,” she gave a gory smile. “All’s well, Castor’s here!”

“I...I can’t lift this whole bear,” he shook his head, shocked.

“Fortunately no one is asking you to,” Kassandra was beginning to lose patience with the situation.

It smelt of mud, and pig shit and dead bear down here, her ears were ringing and her arm was blazing with pain. She just wanted to get up, to go home, to get clean, to assess the damage, to get out from under this bloody bear!

“If we all work together, we should be able to lift its head and shoulders a bit and I can pull myself out, okay?” She looked at him, his eyes were glassy with shock. “Are you hearing me Castor? We need to get it together because after all this, I am _not_ suffocating to death under a fucking bear tonight! Sorry Phoibe.”

“It’s fine," Phoibe sniffed. “Come on Castor,” she untied the stinking skins she was still wearing and tossed them aside before kneeling by Kassandra's head. “I can lift it better if I get my shoulder underneath it and push,” she explained, seeing Kassandra’s puzzled expression.

“Good thinking Phoibe,” she gave her a thumbs up with her left arm, smiling proudly. “Come on Castor, just you now. Get hold of it round the neck and when I count to three we all lift together all right.”

“Right...right...” he bent and gingerly took a hold of the bear’s head. “ _When_ you say “three” or _after_ you say...”

“For fuck’s sake Castor, ON three,” Kassandra hissed, exasperated.

They managed to lift the huge beast just enough for Kassandra to drag herself lopsidedly out from under it.

Phoibe and Castor helped her to her feet. She stood, bent over, breathing hard. After a few moments she felt a little better.

Should she look at her arm now?

She glanced down. From the deltoid down it was painted with blood and mud.

Exploring a little with her left hand she found three huge gashes all the way from the back of her arm right round across her bicep. They felt deep too. Blood was running slowly and steadily from a severed vessel. This could be better, she thought. She needed to get to help.

Phoibe was gathering up Kassandra’s weapons, bracing her foot against the bear’s skull to yank her spear free. Kassandra watched her with a proud smile.

“Thank you Phoibe,” she touched her cheek softly with her left hand. “I think we should go now.”

“Why are you here, Phoibe?” Castor said suddenly.

“What?” Phoibe looked up. “What do you mean? I heard the ruckus.”

“I know why _she’s_ here,” he looked over at Kassandra, she was swaying a little. “But why are _you_ here? Why were you on my roof? And why were you wearing these filthy skins?”

“”I was...just...” Phoibe flailed mentally, trying to come up with some plausible explanation.

Kassandra stopped her.

She was weary, sore, light headed.

She just wanted to go to Selene’s. _She_  would know what to do.

She was sick of this whole stupid charade. It had seemed like a harmless amusement at first, but now look.

She’d nearly got killed by a bloody bear. There weren’t even any bears _on_ Kephallonia! What were the odds of that?!

Fuck the whole stupid thing! Fuck the bear! Fuck Castor! Fuck Nephele for that matter!

If she’d just told her father in the first place, Kassandra wouldn’t be standing here in a small but growing pool of her own blood reeking of pig shit...again! Why was it always pig shit with this man?!

“I’ve been seeing your daughter,” she sighed. “I’ve been seeing her for a few weeks and she was afraid to tell you because...well I don’t know why….because you don’t like misthioi, or women, or women _with_ women, or _anyone_ with your daughter? I don’t know. I don’t really care any more. She thought you’d be upset and she didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to tell you but she was afraid to, afraid to hurt you...so. So _we_ ,” she nodded down at Phoibe, “decided to do all this to let you see that I’m not so bad. I’m not a bad woman Castor. I know I’m rough around the edges but I’m not a _bad_ woman, I...oh, do you know what, just fuck it. Fuck it all. Come on Phoibe, I’m tired. I want Selene.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

All the way to Selene's, Phoibe was on the verge of panic.

Kassandra was leaning more and more heavily on her shoulder. Once or twice as they made their staggering way through the darkened town she had to stop, lean against a wall to get her breath.

If she fell, Phoibe would be no more able to get her to her feet again than she’d been able to lift the bear.

She’d have to leave her lying bleeding in the street while she went for help.

She’d have to leave her there.

“Please don’t fall Kassandra, please don’t fall, we’re nearly there, we’re so nearly there,” she begged, half dragging her the last few hundred feet.

She pounded so loudly on the door, yelling at the top of her voice, that she woke not only the household, but the neighbours. Curious heads appeared at windows as Selene threw open the door, Europa and Clio close on her heels.

“Kassandra fought a bear,” Phoibe sniffed. “She’s hurt.”

Selene had a moment of sheer panic.

Kassandra was grey faced and glassy eyed, her right arm painted with blood and mud, wobbling slightly as she leaned on Phoibe’s shoulder.

The little girl was saucer eyed and pale with terror, fighting back tears.

“Time to panic later,” Selene told herself. She took a deep breath and turned to Europa and Clio.

“Right, get her to the pump, we need to get all that mess off her,” she looked across the road at the curious onlookers.

There was a young man there who she knew had access to a fast horse.

And she knew something else. There was a healer camped out by the foot of Zeus.

She sent him on his way with a promise of drachmae, the quicker he returned with the healer the more coin there would be in it for him.

Europa and Clio were half carrying, half dragging Kassandra through the house, grimacing at the feel of the sticky blood on her arms as they looped them over their shoulders.

Selene looked down at Phoibe, she was standing, clutching the hem of her tunic, stained with Kassandra’s blood, wide eyed, pale with shock.

“Come on, let’s go help,” Selene bent and hauled Phoibe onto her hip with some difficulty. The girl was getting too big for anyone but Kassandra to do this comfortably she realised.

Out in the yard, Europa was filling a bucket, as Clio fumbled awkwardly with Kassandra’s armour.

They both had considerable experience getting people out of their clothes but this was a bit of a struggle all the same, the straps and fastenings were sticky and caked with mud and blood.

“Phoibe, sweetheart,” Selene put her down, “why don’t you help get Kassandra’s sandals off.”

If she kept her busy maybe she would be less likely to go to pieces, Selene reasoned.

Kassandra opened her eyes, took a moment to orientate herself.

“Hello Clio,” she smiled, “Europa. I fought a bear,” she grinned bloodily. “I won.”

“Are you sure?” Clio asked weakly, forcing a smile

“Yeah, yeah,” Kassandra nodded. “We won, didn’t we Phoibe?” she winked at her.

“I didn’t even know that there _were_ bears on Kephallonia. There are bears on Kephallonia?” Europa was shocked. “ _Are_ there bears on Kephallonia?” she frowned at Selene.

“Not any more,” Kassandra gave a weak chuckle, held her ribs. “Ow!”

“It must have been on that ship,” Selene reasoned. “That was a hell of a thing not to notice when you were hunting Kassandra. You couldn’t have missed one of the cats I don’t suppose?”

She began to pile Kassandra’s discarded clothes and armour in the kitchen.

“This is all my fault,” Phoibe wailed suddenly.

“It was just supposed to be a game. I didn’t know there was a bear. I just wanted to help Kassandra. She was so sad. Why doesn’t stupid Castor want her to be Nephele’s girlfriend? I don’t understand. There wasn’t supposed to be a real live bear. It’s all my fault, and now Kassandra’s going to die and it’s going to be all my fault….” she collapsed into sobs.

Selene knelt and took Phoibe by the shoulders.

“Don’t you dare,” she said firmly. “ _None_ of this is your fault. No one could have known there was a bear on the island. Castor is a silly, overprotective man and Kassandra is far too big, strong and bull headed to die.”

“I’m not dead!” Kassandra woke briefly to express her indignation.

“There, you see?” Selene patted Phoibe’s cheek. “Now get that idea out of your head. Let’s get Kassandra cleaned up and into bed, ready for the healer. Europa! Stop dithering round the edges with that cloth, give it to me, come and look after Phoibe.”

She took the cloth from Europa, soaked it in the bucket and began to rub the mess from Kassandra’s right arm.

“Ow!” she woke again, frowning at Selene.

“Don’t be a baby," she said firmly but kindly. “If you’re big enough to fight a bear, you’re big enough to get cleaned up after it’s taken a swipe at you. Hold these wounds open for me Clio, let me get in there.”

When Kassandra was reasonably clean it was easy to see where the worst of the bleeding was coming from. Selene found a clean cloth, ripped it into broad strips and bound Kassandra’s arm tightly, grunting a little with the effort.

“ _You_ hurt more than the bear did,” Kassandra grumbled drowsily.

“And _you_ certainly do a lot of complaining for someone who was barely conscious a few minutes ago,” Selene tied off the bandage and nodded to Clio. “Take her other side, sweet, let’s get her upstairs.”

 

They had just managed to settle Kassandra on Clio’s bed, propped up against the pillows when the healer arrived.

She took in the scene and shook her head.

“Well stand back a bit, the lot of you, stop sucking up her air,” she bent over Kassandra, slapped her face firmly.

She roused, shook her head, frowned.

“Still with us then? Good,” the woman put a leather satchel down by the bed. “What happened? Anyone? Or do I have to guess? Because I’m a healer, not an oracle.”

“It was a bear,” Phoibe sniffed, she was leaning against Europa, one arm about the young woman’s hips, clutching at the neck of her own tunic with the other hand. “She was fighting a bear, and it hit her really hard. Then it fell on her.”

The healer rolled her eyes.

“Fighting a bear? Of course she was,” she muttered, leaning over and untying the bandage.

“Well this could be better,” she surveyed the damage then noticed the dismal expressions on the faces of her audience. “But it could be worse too, so buck up.”

She untied a large cloth bundle that she’d had tied to her belt and opened the wrapping to reveal sizable bundles of various herbs. She selected a hand-sized bunch of one type and another smaller bunch composed of three or four different types.

“Righty,” she looked around, her gaze settled on Phoibe, “You, little ‘un. Do you know how to grind herbs?”

Phoibe nodded, reached out, accepted the first bunch.

“Listen carefully then, _really_ carefully mind because your..sister?” she didn’t wait for confirmation. “She needs your help right? Grind these up really well. As fine as you can get them right? Then mix them with a little bit of good oil. You’ve got good oil right? Not too much. I want it like sticky clay, got it?” she asked.

“Little bit of oil, sticky clay,” Phoibe nodded, listening intently.

“Good girl. And these,” she handed the mixed bunch to Europa. "You need to help, pretty one, be doing this while she’s grinding those. Tie them up in a bit of fine cloth, warm some wine. A good big cup of it," she glanced over her shoulder, assessed Kassandra, who was lying still now, breathing roughly.

“Use them all, she’s a big lass, she’ll take it. Steep the herbs in the warm wine whilst you’re making the poultice, all right. If you’ve got some honey, spices, anything she likes, stick some of that in as well, because it’s going to taste like a gorgon’s armpit and I don’t want to have to fight her to get it down. Understand?” she looked sternly from Phoibe to Europa and back again.

They nodded mutely and she waved them away.

“Off you go now, get cracking, time’s wasting.”

When they had left, the healer turned back to the room and approached the bed.

“Right now,” she clapped her hands. “That’s the little girl out of the way. Let’s get started. I hope you’re not squeamish? I’ve no room for fainters.”

 

By the time Europa and Phoibe eventually returned with the potion and poultice Kassandra was lying still and grey faced, sheets tucked about her and the healer was tearing bandages.

“Just in time,” she smiled. “Cheer up little one, your sister’s a big strong girl, she’ll be all right.”

“Really?” Phoibe handed over the bowl of grey green mixture. “She’s not going to die?”

“Well, eventually she will, we all do,” the healer laughed, smearing the poultice over Kassandra’s wounded arm, wiping her hands on one of the bandages when she’d finished. “But not today.”

She began to bind the arm and looked around at her audience.

Clio and Selene looked a little peaky.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s a big, strong lass, lots of water and bloody meat will sort that out. See if you can get the hunters to bring you some fresh deer liver. Raw if she’ll take it, sear it a bit if not, the big ones can be babies in my experience.”

She went to the table by the wall, poured some water and began to wash her hands.

“You there,” she looked over her shoulder, nodded at Clio. "See if you can get that potion down your girlfriend, _all_ of it mind.”

“Oh, she’s not my….never mind...yes, of course,” Clio decided against the protest and took the cup from Europa.

“We’ve cleaned it as well as we can,” the healer continued, "but there was all kinds of muck in there. If it gets infected you’ll have to cut a couple of those stitches, let the pus out.”

She washed the tools she’d been using, dried them on the towel, began to repack her bags.

“I’ll leave you some herbs, here," she bundled up most of what had been left in the cloth package.

“If she gets a fever, strip her, bathe her in cool water, crush these, mix them with warm wine, make her drink the leaves as well, mind. Keep her cool, make her drink and she should get through it. She’s strong, she’ll be back on her feet in no time,” she patted Phoibe’s cheek and winked. “Don’t be so sad, little one, she not leaving you yet. But make her stop fighting bloody bears, all right?”

“Thank you so much," Selene took her arm, led her out of the room. “Please, let me get you something to eat and drink.”

 

Kassandra slept solidly till the following afternoon.

She woke to find an exhausted Phoibe curled up by her left side, an arm over Kassandra's waist, her face buried against her breast.

Clio was sitting, nodding, by the bed, a bowl of water and a cloth on the floor by her feet. She sensed Kassandra shifting and jolted awake.

“Kass!” she gasped. “Praise the gods,” she leaned over, grabbed Kassandra’s right hand, making her wince a little at her stiff, sore upper arm.

“I was so worried,” Clio pressed her face to Kassandra’s hand.

She felt warm wetness against her knuckles and, ignoring the discomfort, raised Clio’s head with her hand.

“Hey,” she breathed, seeing the tears on her face. “No need for that,” she brushed them away with her thumb. Clio leaned into her touch and closed her eyes.

“You fucking idiot,” she hissed. “I am _so_ angry with you. A bear?!”

“In my defense,” Kassandra smiled apologetically. “I didn’t know there was a bear in the shed. It was supposed to be Phoibe.”

Clio sat up and gave a weary sigh.

“I hope this bloody girl is worth all this,” she went over to the table, poured Kassandra some water.

“I didn’t plan on fighting a bear for her, honestly Clio,” Kassandra chuckled softly, not wanting to wake Phoibe.

She accepted the cup of water, drank greedily. “Gods I’m thirsty. Can I have more?”

“You can have as much as you want,” Clio smiled, a little sadly. “Then I’ll go tell Selene that you’re ready for a nice plate of raw deer liver shall I?”

“Clearly I am in more trouble than I originally thought,” Kassandra laughed.

“Cheer up Clio,” she drained the second cup, throat pulsing steadily as she gulped. “Everything is fine now.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Things weren’t quite as fine as Kassandra had anticipated.

The next evening a raging fever hit her.

The three women spent an exhausting night, running up and down stairs with buckets of water, bathing a naked Kassandra and watching the water practically evaporate off her before their eyes, changing sheets soaked with sweat and water.

Phoibe crouched at the top of the bed, Kassandra’s head cradled on her lap, doing her best to get her to drink the foul smelling mixture the healer had left for just this eventuality.

In the early hours, just as dawn broke, so did the fever.

Kassandra opened her eyes, saw Clio sitting by the side of the bed, lolled forward asleep, her head on Kassandra’s hip.

Phoibe was curled up, cat-like, against her shoulder.

Europa was rinsing cloths in a bucket of clean water.

Selene stood looking out of the window, watching the sun rise.

“How long have I been asleep,” Kassandra whispered hoarsely, not wanting to wake anyone.

“Sweetheart!” Selene turned, beaming with delighted relief.

She rushed to the bed, bent, took Kassandra’s face in soft hands, pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to her parched lips, rested her forehead against Kassandra’s. “We’ve been so worried. Welcome back.”

“It’s nice to be back,” Kassandra smiled wearily.

“Hello Europa,” she saw her standing by the table, hands clasped to her chest, smiling weepily. “Did you miss me?”

“You fool,” Europa sobbed, smiling and coming over to the bed. “You nearly scared us to death, you big idiot,” she kissed her hard, pressed her cheek against Kassandra’s.

“Well if _this_ is the welcome back that I get every time, I should get hit by a bear more often,” Kassandra rustled up a playfully lecherous smile.

“Incorrigible,” Europa laughed, wiping tears from her cheeks. “You’re forbidden from fighting bears from now on. Would you like some water?”

“Gods yes please,” Kassandra nodded. “I've never felt so thirsty.”

She downed three large cups of water, hiccuped a little, announced that she was tired, lay down and went back to sleep.

Europa and Selene exchanged looks that were equal parts amusement and relief.

“Go to bed Europa,” Selene smiled. “I’ll sort out the bucket, then I’ll take a nap myself. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up no doubt.”

 

Downstairs Selene took the empty bucket into the yard. There were already a good half dozen piled up, Phoibe had been sent to borrow additional pails from the neighbours. She would send her round today to return them, with their thanks.

It looked like it was going to be a lovely day, the sun was already warming the yard. Selene closed her eyes, relished the feel of it on her face. She rubbed the small of her back wearily.

“You’re getting too old for this, Selene,” she smiled, shook her head, made her way back inside.

The table was littered with various plates and bowls. Word of Kassandra’s injuries had spread after Phoibe’s dramatic late night arrival, and for all their gossip most people were fond of Kassandra.

Many of them had seen her grow up from a scrappy little orphan to the handsome, generally good natured misthios she was now. She’d helped most of them out at one time or another and, unlike Markos, had never under delivered or over charged.

And they couldn’t deny that she’d stepped up to the mark without hesitation when Phoibe had been dropped into her lap. She seemed to be doing her best to provide the poor child with some sort of family, however unorthodox.

Perhaps Kassandra was a little “free with her affections” but faced with the prospect of not having her around any more, they were beginning to think that wasn’t the worst character flaw she could have.

As a consequence the kitchen table was now full of gifts of food, delivered by slightly awkward townsfolk wanting a status update on Kassandra’s condition.

Selene took a fig from one of the baskets, bit deeply, chewed.

She surveyed the table.

There was an awful lot of grilled fish she noticed. Was Kassandra particularly fond of grilled fish?

She had put a notice on the door that they were closed for business for the next few days.

It was a hit she could have done without really. It would put a dent in the drachmae she had managed to salt away over the years, but if it wasn’t there for times like these, then what _had_ she been saving for?

It’s not like she was ever really going to amass enough to leave this lifestyle, not working on Kephallonia, she chuckled softly.

And where would she go anyway? Her family was all here.

That sounded like someone else now, she heard a tentative rapping on the front door.

Finishing the fig, she made her way to the door, licking her fingers clean.

She’d been fully expecting to greet an anxious towns-person with some fresh rolls asking after progress.

She was half right.

Castor stood there, pale, unshaven, plucking nervously at the fringe of his short cloak.

Selene eyed him warily, said nothing.

There was a long, awkward pause.

Selene considered taking pity on him, decided against it.

“I...” Castor made an abortive attempt to kick-start the conversation. He withered under Selene’s gaze, licked his lips nervously, tried again.

“Good morning madam.”

Selene slowly raised an elegant eyebrow.

“My name is Castor,” he stammered a little, avoided her eyes. “I hope you’ll forgive me calling so early in the day...but...I was...” he ground to a halt.

“I know who you are, Castor,” Selene said placidly. “And now you’re faced with a difficult choice. Is it going to be more harmful to your reputation to be seen standing at the door of the whorehouse speaking with the proprietor, or to be seen going inside with me? Choose quickly, I’ve had a very long night and I’m tired.”

Castor actually seemed to be giving this serious consideration for a few moments, eyeing nervously up and down the street.

It did nothing to endear him to Selene. She was about to close the door on his nonsense.

“No,” he held out a quick hand to stop her.”I’d like to come in I think, if you don’t mind?”

“Good choice,” Selene stepped back, holding the door open and allowed him to enter. She closed the door and turned to face him as he stood dithering, a few feet into the room.

“How may I help you?” she asked, folding her arms.

“I just wanted to find out how she is?” he asked, shifting awkwardly.

“Who?” Selene was pitiless.

“The...your...Kassandra...how is she?” he glanced at her.

“She’ll live,” Selene conceded. “Was there anything else?”

“Look,” Castor sighed. “I...I’m not handling this very well, I’m sorry. I’m glad to hear she’s all right.”

“I didn’t say she was all right, Castor,” Selene corrected. “I said she’ll live. She’ll be all right in a few days, but she’s certainly not all right now. She was attacked by a bear.”

“I know, don’t you think I know?” he nearly snapped. “I was there. I saw it all. It was terrifying. But she shouldn’t even have been there! I know you’re fond of her, but you _do_ realise that she shouldn’t even have been there. She _wouldn’t_ have been there if she and the little girl hadn’t been...lying to me. Playing tricks on me. Trying to make a fool of me. And all because she’s been sneaking around behind my back, messing around with my daughter! My daughter has been lying to me all this time! She never lied to me before she met that...that _mercenary_.”

It wasn’t the worst word he could have ended on Selene thought, but she’d never heard it spat with such venom.

He was red faced and breathless now, fixing her with a challenging glare.

She gave him a few moments, eyed him calmly. His breath slowed, his shoulders slumped a little.

“Better now?” she smiled but there was no humour in it and he knew. “What damage did their “tricks” do, Castor? Kassandra mucked out your pigs for you. For nothing. And if the condition she came home in is any indication then they were long overdue for a thorough cleaning. Isn’t that _your_ job? She dug you a new latrine pit. For nothing. Who else was going to do that? You? When? While you were busy _not_ mucking out your pigs? “

He looked a little awkward she noted, shifting slightly from foot to foot.

“The damn bear would have been on your farm anyway. Kassandra had nothing to do with that, it came ashore with the wreck.” She assumed she was right about this, and Castor was in no position to argue the point.

“Were _you_ going to kill it? Your daughter would have come home to find the pigs eating your corpse. You should be grateful she was there, and you know it. Just why are you so upset? Because you don’t know your daughter as well as you thought you did? Because you’ve been so busy mourning your wife that you’ve taken your eye off your child? Because I hate to break it to you Castor, but they weren’t being nearly as discreet as they thought they were, bless them. Half the town has been humouring them, turning a blind eye. If you’d been paying more attention you might have noticed your daughter seemed happier than usual. Had a bit of a spring in her step, no?”

“She’s going to break her heart!” Castor snapped. “I’ve heard about her, the way she carries on. She’s had half the women on the island. And now she wants my Nephele! She’s going to ruin her.”

Selene held up a silencing hand, glanced to the stairs.

“Lower your voice please Castor, everyone has had an exhausting night,” she sighed.

She was bone weary all of a sudden, wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, fall into bed, sleep for the rest of the day.

“Yes, Nephele may get her heart broken,” she conceded “But, do you know what? So may Kassandra. You’re right, she _has_ loved half the women on the island, but you know something else? Every one of them was willing. Every one of them wanted her. She’s never lied to a woman. Never promised her more than she was able and willing to give. Go ask the women if you don’t believe me. If I thought for a moment that she was making a career out of breaking women’s hearts for fun I would have turned her out myself.”

“I just don’t want my daughter to be hurt,” he looked down at his hands, picking distractedly at a hangnail on his thumb. “She’s all I have now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Castor,” she sighed. “You have another daughter, and a new grand daughter. They aren’t half way across the world. You’ll see them again. And Nephele is going to get hurt at some point or other. We all hurt, Castor. Your daughter's not going to settle down with Kassandra,” she gave a humourless laugh.

“They aren’t going to buy a farm and raise chickens together. They’re having fun, or trying to. And if you’re so concerned about it, stop making such a fuss. There is nothing as tantalizing as the forbidden, Castor. Believe me, I’ve been in this business for long enough to to know what I’m talking about.”

“But she lied to me,” he murmured.

“Because you forced her to. She didn’t want to hurt you,” she gave him a pitying look. “Kassandra didn’t want to hurt you _or_ Nephele. She wanted to tell you about it, but Nephele was insistent, so she played along. And then she tried to make you like her, Castor. That’s all she was trying to do. The girl killed a bear! And you had her mucking out your pigs! And she did it, to try and please you! To try and please your daughter!”

Selene sighed, massaged the bridge of her nose. She was exhausted, ready to stop banging her head against this particular wall.

“I’m sorry Castor, I’m very tired. If you’ve said what you came here to say I would be grateful if you left now,” she walked to the door, opened it with some finality.

He lingered as if there was more he wanted to say but didn’t know how to begin.

“Will you...would you tell her...tell Kassandra that I called?” he glanced up at Selene as he reached the door.

Fumbling at his belt he untied a small pouch and offered it to Selene.

She looked at him coldly.

“If that contains what I think it does,” she said with dangerous calm, “you had better put it right back on your belt. I am well aware now what you think of Kassandra and by extension of me. A mercenary and a whore. But there are some things beyond price even for such as us, Castor. Please go now.”

 

She closed the door carefully behind him and gave a shaky sigh. Resting her head against it she wept for a few minutes as quietly as she could.

“Come now, Selene,” she said to herself. “This is helping no one. You’re tired. Let’s go to bed.”

Turning to the stairs, she jumped slightly, startled to see Phoibe sitting on the top step, hugging her knees to her chest.

How much of that had she seen, heard?

“Hello Phoibe,” she dried her eyes quickly. “Is everything all right? Does Kassandra need anything?”

“No, she’s still asleep,” Phoibe chewed at a thumb nail. “Is she going to be all right, Selene?”

She remembered that Phoibe had been asleep when Kassandra had woken earlier.

“Yes, yes,” she smiled, walking upstairs to her, stopping a few steps below where she sat so she could look in her eyes. “She woke up while you were asleep, drank some water, talked with us. She didn’t want to wake you, sweet. She’ll be fine in a few days, really.”

She reached the top of the stairs, offered Phoibe her hand.

“How are you feeling, little one?” Phoibe’s hand was warm in hers, slightly damp with sweat.

“I’m still tired,” she rubbed an eye with her other hand. “Can I...could I?” she began awkwardly.

“Would you like to come sleep with me for a little while?” Selene interpreted. Phoibe nodded.

“He’s still cross isn’t he? Castor?” she mumbled a little later, tucked up in bed, watching sleepily as Selene washed her face wearily, dressed herself for bed.

“Try not to worry about it Phoibe,” she climbed in beside her, body suddenly aching with weariness.

“He’s a foolish man.” She pulled Phoibe to her, felt her snuggle in to her side, hug an arm about her waist, rest her head against her breast.

“I think he’s just scared,” Phoibe murmured drowsily, “Sad and a bit scared.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Kassandra, naturally, declared herself well enough to be up and about the next day.

When she fell down the stairs she had to concede that perhaps the bear had taken a little more out of her than she’d realised.

For a few days she capitulated to the demands of the others, allowed herself to be helped, permitted them to dress and bathe her.

Her arm was stiff, it burned dully all the time, the skin felt tight, it hurt to flex, was impossible to lie on.

Her ribs hurt even more though.

She hadn’t realised how much damage the bear had done. It hurt to breathe, hurt to move, hurt to lie down. The whole right side of her body from shoulder to hip was a mass of bruising.

And she hadn’t even been able to skin the bloody thing, she thought miserably, grumbling about it to Clio and Phoibe as they helped her into her sandals.

“My first bear and nothing to show for it but all this bruising,” she flexed her side experimentally.

“What do you mean your _first_ bear?!” Phoibe looked up, frowning. “There aren’t any more are there? No more bears were on that ship were they?”

“No, no, no,” Kassandra soothed, immediately regretting her choice of words. "Just a figure of speech."

“And you got some dashing scars,” Clio helped out, giving her a cheeky wink. “Ladies love a few dashing scars on their handsome misthios.”

“Is that right?” Kassandra eyed the three angry red bands of healing tissue.

“Absolutely! Think of the tale you’re going to be able to tell when they ask you how you got them,” she grinned. “I’d leave out the pig shit though. Only a _very_ particular kind of woman would enjoy that part.”

“The lady at the grilled fish stall was just saying that. About the scars, not the pig shit,” Phoibe clarified, perching on the bed next to Kassandra.

“Me and Markos were getting you that eel yesterday and she was saying to the woman with the curly hair that you’ll look even more handsome now, so I wouldn’t worry about them, they make you look brave. _Braver_ ,” she corrected. “And she didn’t charge us for the eel when she found out it was for you. So Markos said could _he_ have free fish if he showed her _his_ scars and she said it didn’t work like that, but I don’t think he’s got any real scars. That one on his leg from the rooster I suppose, but no one wants to see that!”

“You’re right there, Phoibe,” Clio laughed, getting to her feet. “And the woman at the fish stall eh?” she arched an eyebrow. “The redhead with the big..” she gestured expressively.

“That’s the one,” Phoibe nodded enthusiastically.

“Clio!” Kassandra warned, halfheartedly, getting to her feet and stretching cautiously.

“Don’t dismiss it out of hand,” she laughed. “You’d never have to pay for your eel again.”

“That’s just what Markos was saying,” Phoibe nodded as they all made their way carefully downstairs. “She’s got a nice little business there, good turnover, low overheads. What?!” she glanced up at Clio and Kassandra who were staring at her with amusement and disbelief, respectively. “It’s just good business” she shrugged.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Kassandra shook her head.

“Selene!,” she called into the kitchen. “You should get back to business tonight.”

It took a little persuasion but Kassandra was insistent. They’d lost enough business on her account.

It was fairly apparent that if any real trouble arose she would be at a significant disadvantage, but as it happened everyone was so relieved to see the place open again and Kassandra standing there large as life, if a little paler than normal, that the evening passed in buoyant good humour.

Having got her first night under her belt Kassandra pretty much returned to normal.

She felt a little stronger, a little less sore every morning and a couple of days later announced that she and Phoibe would return home.

“We’ve caused enough disruption,” she enveloped Selene in a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry Selene, about everything. I _will_ make it up to you, I promise.”

“Sweet girl,” Selene cradled her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, “You repaid me when you got better. I forbid you from thinking any more of it. And Phoibe,” she bent to hug her. “We are going to miss having you around all the time.”

“Oh I’ll be back tomorrow,” Phoibe smiled, “I am going to help Markos clip some chicken wings, then I’ll come over to help sweep the yard.”

 

That night Kassandra lay on her own bedroll, she’d moved the canopy aside so she could look at the stars.

She lay on her back, carefully folded her hands behind her head. The skin of her right arm pulled a little but it eased a little every time she stretched she’d found.

The bruising had faded to a dull yellow, another couple of days it would be barely visible.

She found her mind wandering to Nephele, wondered where she was, how she was getting on, even what the baby was like. Had she been thinking of Kassandra, she wondered?

Selene had told her that Castor had come to visit after the fight, but she’d been reluctant to elaborate further.

“He came to ask how you were,“ she said a little tightly. “I told him. Castor is something that you and Nephele are going to have to sort out between you when she gets back.” She said this with enough finality that Kassandra made no attempt to probe further.

She had no idea what was going to happen when Nephele returned.

Would he try and stop them from seeing each other altogether? Obviously he wouldn’t be able to physically prevent Kassandra from doing anything she saw fit, but she also realised that Nephele loved her father, that she wouldn’t want Kassandra to do anything to further complicate what was an already tense relationship.

The previous day she had considered walking over to Castor’s farm. The impulse had lasted for no more than five minutes. What was she going to say to him? Ask him what happened to the bear? She laughed bitterly.

How had this gone from a harmless game to a brush with death?

Nephele didn’t even know about any of it, she thought. What was she going to say when she got back and found out what Kassandra had been up to in her absence?

She didn’t even know when she was coming back. She’d known it was due to be a rather open ended visit, but she’d lost track of time after the bear fight, had heard nothing about a return journey.

Castor wasn’t likely to tell her now, even if he had received word.

It was all such a mess.

She hadn’t helped at all. She’d just made everything worse.

Maybe she should forget all about it, resign herself to the idea that she’d ruined it all, turn her attention to the well proportioned redhead at the fish stall.

With a disgruntled snort she rolled over onto her side, it hurt very little now. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, eventually fell asleep.

 

Once she fell asleep she slept soundly. The sun was high when she was woken by a man’s deep voice shouting her name.

Getting to her feet, stretching out the early stiffness she went to the terrace wall, and leaned over, blinking blearily down.

“There you are, thank fuck!” it was Rizon, the tanner. “I’ve got your skins.”

“What skins?” Kassandra brushed her hair back from her face, rubbed her eyes clear.

“Them lynx skins, remember?” he was rummaging on the back of his cart. “And if I say so myself, they’re bloody lovely. Want me to bring them up?”

“No, no, I’ll come down,” Kassandra realised she was in her underwear. “Be right there.”

The lynx, she thought happily, pulling on her tunic. She’d forgotten all about them in the fuss with the bear. Phoibe was going to be so pleased.

As she rushed downstairs Rizon continued yelling at her.

“I passed Markos and young Phoibe on the way, they said to tell you...something about chickens, I forget what, I don’t listen to Markos half the bloody time. They’ve left you some breakfast apparently,” he was hauling something heavy towards the back of his cart as she approached

“Want me to carry them up for you or are you up to it now?” he lifted the thick roll of skins.

“Of course I’m up to it,” Kassandra said, a little defensively.

“All right! Calm yourself,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just this bear skin is a heavy bugger.”

“ _What_ bear skin?” Kassandra frowned.

“Listen to you, “what bear skin”?” he laughed. “How many bears have you killed lately?”

“I didn’t skin the bear,” she was confused.

“No, I know you didn’t. _I_ did,” he handed her the roll of lynx pelts. “And it was a big bastard I’ll tell you that. But I suppose you already know. Beautiful fur, bloody beautiful. And you hadn’t messed it up either. Well the head was a bit buggered but I left that. The skin was immaculate, so well done there.”

“”I'm sorry Rizon, I don't understand” Kassandra hugged the pelts to her chest, they were cloud soft.

“Did it hit you in the head,” he hauled the bear pelt to the edge of the cart and shouldered it with a chuckle. “Cos I thought...oh wait, did he not tell you?”

“Did who not tell me what?” Kassandra eyed the huge roll, drooping over Rizon’s hairy shoulder.

“All right, sorry,” he smiled, “Castor came round and asked me to get the bear skin ready for you. It’s your payment for killing it. And it’s a bloody nice payment, but then you did a bloody good job, so I suppose you deserve it.”

“Castor?” Kassandra struggled to followed

“Mmm,“ he made for the house.

“It’s your fee. He came round this morning paid me, and...what was it… oh yeah, he asked me to tell you that his lass’ ship is coming in tomorrow but he doesn’t know when obviously. I tell you what Kassandra, when she sees this bastard, it’ll be _your_ ship coming in eh?” he gave her a broad conspiratorial wink. “I’m guessing it’s going on your bed, no? Wasted anywhere else. Not that you need any more advantages, you lucky dog.”

“Er yes, yes,” Kassandra followed him upstairs.

“Here?” he nodded in the first room.

“No, no, on the terrace,” she dropped the lynx pelts on the bed. “This is Phoibe’s.”

“She’s going to sleep like a little queen on them,” Rizon smiled. “You’re a good lass Kassandra. What you’re doing for that little girl,” he saw her embarrassment, moved on. “Up here then?”

When he had unstrung the pelt, spread it out on the bedroll they both stood back to admire it.

“It’s gorgeous Rizon, thank you,” she breathed.

She’d forgotten how big the beast had been. The black brown fur shone in the sunlight.

“My pleasure,” he slapped her on the shoulder. “Oh sorry,” he rubbed where he’d slapped, “I forgot. Is your arm all right now?” he grinned. “Cos you’ll be needing that tomorrow I don’t doubt,” he winked.

“Rizon, “she swallowed “I don’t know where you’ve got this idea about Nephele and me but..”

“Oh don’t insult me Kassandra,” he laughed, taking a final admiring glance at his handiwork before making his way down the stairs. “We’ve all seen the way you look at each other. People aren’t bloody stupid you know. Well some people are. Markos for example, he’s a bit stupid. Stupid but crafty. And Castor. I don’t know that he’s all that bright really. But I’m glad he’s come round to the two of you. She seems like a nice girl. You make a good looking couple.”

“Wait, Rizon,” Kassandra followed him out, stood by the cart as he climbed into the seat, “Did Castor say anything about...about me and Nephele?”

“Not in so many words,” he clicked his tongue at the horse, flicked the reins. “But he must be coming round, why else would he be expecting you to go to the docks with him to greet the girl eh? Get your hair sorted out for her. Pick her some flowers or something, lasses like flowers don’t they?”

 

That night Kassandra lay on her back on the bear pelt, it was silky soft, thick and warm. It would be too warm for the warmer nights, and honestly it was a bit big for the bed.

She got up, moved her bed roll against the wall, spread out the skin directly on the roof.

Cautiously lying down, she smiled, it was thick and soft enough to be perfectly adequate for sleeping on.

Or maybe doing other things on she thought, feeling her pulse quicken a little.

She was getting ahead of herself. She should meet up with Castor before the dock maybe, test the water?

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Thank you so much for the furs Kassandra,” Phoibe repeated for the umpteenth time that morning.

“They are the softest thing I have ever felt in my whole life. It's like sleeping in a cloud, but a warm cloud, not a wet one. Clouds must be wet right? They're where rain comes from, no?. Your bear is really nice too, but I think my..what are they again? Lynx? They are so much softer... lift up your arm,” they were in Selene’s bath room. 

 

Selene had been a little unconvinced by the news of Castor’s largess but Kassandra seemed cautiously optimistic and she didn’t want to spoil the mood.

She rustled up some warm water, Europa had scrutinized her vast collection of soaps and creams and perfumes and had selected what she thought would best suit Kassandra. Clio was polishing the light leather armour that they had all agreed she should wear. Kassandra had balked a little at the idea of armour, wondering if it would antagonize Castor somehow.

“Never mind bloody Castor,” Clio had put her foot down. “This all about Nephele seeing you for the first time. You look dashing in your armour, She's not seen you for three weeks. You want her to stop breathing when she sees you, not literally obviously,” she glanced at Phoibe's puzzled expression.

 

Now Phoibe was scrubbing Kassandra’s back with a good deal of vigour, a shade too much vigour if Kassandra was perfectly honest about it, but she bit her tongue.

“You are going to smell delicious,” Phoibe huffed in a great deep breath. “She’ll want to eat you when she smells this.”

Kassandra heard Clio’s ribald laughter in the yard.

“See if you can wait till you get her home though,” she called. “Are you nearly done, we’ve got to braid your hair yet.”

 

“Why not wear it down?” Phoibe suggested later as Kassandra sat on an upturned bucket in front of Clio, wrapped in a towel, glowing slightly from Phoibe's enthusiastic ministrations.

Europa and Selene were sitting on the bench supervising. They exchanged a look at this.

“Oh yes, Kassandra,” Europa clasped her hands. “It’s so pretty down, and you wear it down so rarely.”

“Has she ever seen you with your hair down?” Selene wondered.

Kassandra shook her head nervously

“Then wear it down,” Selene declared firmly. “Let’s get you dressed, then Clio can brush your hair.”

 

Half an hour later Kassandra stood resplendent in the main room.

Her armour glowed, she smelt of something unidentifiable but definitely delicious, her new scars had dulled from an angry red to a dull pink, her hair shone from Clio’s vigourous brushing.

“You look gorgeous,” Europa breathed, clasping her hands to her breasts. “And you smell divine.”

“And she’s just spent days on a smelly ship,” Phoibe pointed out. “She’s not smelt anything like you for ages I bet.”

Selene cast a warning glance over at Clio, but she was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, wearing an odd expression.

“You look beautiful, Kassandra,” Selene said before going into the kitchen and returning with a bunch of fragrant flowers.

“The finishing touch,” she handed them over.

“Gods,” Kassandra slapped a hand to her forehead, took the blooms gratefully. “I forgot the bloody flowers, again.”

“Fortunately I did not,” Selene pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You look absolutely lovely,” she whispered in her ear. “Now, go, meet Castor, but don’t worry about him.”

Kassandra turned and caught Clio’s eye.

“How do I look?” she smiled nervously

Clio seemed to struggle for a moment but raised a weak smile.

“You’ll do,” she tried for a teasing tone and fell a little short.

Kassandra gave her a slightly puzzled look and Clio roused herself, walked over, gave her a hard hug.

“You look gorgeous Kass. Now go get her!” she slapped her arm gently.

As Kassandra left, turning back one last time to smile, Europa walked over to Clio, slipped an arm about her waist and pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“Are you all right Clio?” Phoibe sounded concerned.

“I’m fine, absolutely fine sweetheart,” Clio blinked rapidly.

“Phoibe,” Selene came over with a handful of coin. “Run along to the bakers would you, get us some pastries? Something really nice.”

 

Kassandra decided to wait at the edge of town for Castor and she didn’t have to wait long.

She saw him coming, a small slowly growing figure, taking enough time to approach for her to become nervous.

As he drew close he stopped, staring at Kassandra, looking from her face, to the flowers and back again.

“Kassandra,” he said at last. “I’m...I’m pleased to see you looking so well.” He spotted the thick ridges of scar tissue and swallowed audibly. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure Nephele will be pleased to see you.”

“To see us both,” Kassandra corrected politely, they could do stiff courtesy for the time being, she decided. “Thank you for the bear skin Castor. It’s magnificent.”

“It was a magnificent beast I realised when the fear had lessened,” he nodded. “It would have been a crime to waste it...after all your...after your bravery. I’m glad you approve. You earned it.”

There was an awkward silence. They both shuffled their feet a little. Castor cleared his throat.

“Lovely flowers,” he nodded. “That was thoughtful of you. I should have got her some flowers. Never mind. We should get to the dock, no? The weather has been so good I can’t imagine they will be late.”

They stood in awkward silence at the dock, Castor pacing nervously, Kassandra sitting on a mooring post, tapping her foot.

Eventually a cry went up as the ship hove into view.

It always took so much longer for ships to arrive than you imagined Kassandra sighed.

Castor was standing by the edge of the dock, shaking with anticipation. He’d be there a while yet, she thought wryly.

Another hour passed before the vessel moored.

Castor had exhausted his nervous energy even as Kassandra's had built.

Should she have stuck with the braid? It was what Nephele was used to after all? What if she didn't like the loose hair?

She shouldn’t have worn the armour should she? Armour wasn’t right for a first meeting like this, she…

Gods, there she _was_ at the head of the gangway.

Kassandra’s heart stopped for a moment. Her chest ached. She couldn’t swallow.

Castor was bouncing on his toes at the base of the gangway.

Kassandra joined him, hands trembling. She nudged him, pressed the flowers into his hands.

“ _You_ should give her the flowers,” she mumbled.

Castor seemed shocked, hesitated for a second, then took them, gave her a small but genuine smile.

“Darling girl!” he shouted as Nephele began to walk down the gangway, a sailor following with her trunk.

She looked over, spotted him, beamed, then she noticed Kassandra standing by him and stopped in her tracks.

Her mouth fell open, she looked from Castor to Kassandra and back again, puzzled, nervous.

The sailor behind her said something and she gathered herself, continued downwards, walking steadily into her father’s arms, hugging him tight, pressing a tearful face into his chest.

“I've missed you so much dear girl,” he stroked her hair, pushed her away a little, looked at her happily. He suddenly remembered the flowers in his hands. “For you. Welcome home” he kissed her fondly.

“They’re beautiful pater,” she buried her nose in the blooms, her eyes drifted over to Kassandra, she looked astounded and a little nervous.

“Hello Nephele,” Kassandra managed at last. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Kassandra?” Nephele was wrong-footed, didn’t know how to respond. “How...kind of you? To accompany my...”

“He knows,” Kassandra put her out of her misery.

Nephele shot a glance at her father, he smiled weakly, nodded.

“I...” Nephele swallowed. “Did you tell him?” she looked a little accusatory.

“There’s a lot to explain,” Castor took her arm. “Kassandra has been helping me out...around the farm...while you have been away. She’s been a huge help.”

Nephele drew back from him, still puzzled, looked at Kassandra, her eyes travelling across her face, down her body, she spotted the scars and paled.

“Kassandra! What..” she began.

“It’s all right,”Kassandra held up her hands. “There was a bit of...an...” she came up blank.

“There was an incident on the farm,” Castor helped her out. “Thankfully Kassandra was there to help. I will tell you all about it when we get home. All’s well now though. Kassandra’s well, aren’t you Kassandra?” he nodded hopefully

“Totally well,“ she spread her arms wide and mustered a grin. “Good as ever. Just a bit more...dented.”

Nephele approached, slowly, still confused.

She stopped, a stride away from Kassandra, reached out a tentative hand, touched the centre of her chest, resting her fingers against the warm leather of her chest-plate.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

Kassandra drew a breath, relaxed a little.

“I missed you too, Nephele,” she caught her hand, glanced quickly over Nephele’s shoulder towards Castor, he looked away, down at his feet.

Kassandra pressed Nephele’s palm to her lips. “I missed you so much Nephele. There’s so much to tell you. How’s Jocasta? And the baby?”

Nephele laughed in disbelief, blinked away tears.

“She’s well. They’re well,” she shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this Kassandra. I don’t understand what’s happened,” she looked over her shoulder towards Castor.

Kassandra heaved a great sigh, smiled softly.

“Let me get the carter to take you home,” she decided. “You have a lot to talk about with your pater,” she nodded to Castor. He smiled slightly, returned the gesture. “He wants to hear all about his granddaughter. Come find me later. I’ll be at home.”

She raised a gentle hand, touched Nephele’s cheek gently.

“Take as long as you need, treasure,” she said softly. “I’ll wait.”

 

Her return was greeted with some surprise and disappointment back at Selene’s.

Kassandra accepted a drink, sat down, explained what had just happened.

“No,” she shook her head at their dismay. “I think it’s all right. Or I think it will be.”

Selene gave her a searching look, made a decision.

“Phoibe, why don’t you stay here tonight, my sweet?” she ruffled her hair.

“But my fluffy furs?” Phoibe protested.

“Will be there tomorrow night also,” Selene smiled. “Humour an old lady, Phoibe. Come into the kitchen, let’s get something for Kassandra to eat.”

Phoibe obediently followed.

“Is this a sex thing?” they heard her inquiring as she and Selene entered the kitchen. “Is Kassandra Nephele’s girlfriend now or not because... I’m confused?”

“Love _can_ be confusing, my sweet,“ they heard Selene say placidly. “Pass me that cheese would you?”

 

That night Kassandra undressed to her underwear, took a jug of wine up onto the terrace and sat on the wall facing out, swinging her legs, gazing along the pathway.

There was no guarantee Nephele would come tonight she told herself, filling a cup, draining half of it, refilling immediately.

It was dark.

Nephele would be tired after her journey.

She would need some time to process what Castor was telling her.

Tired and overwhelmed, she wouldn’t be here tonight. That was an unrealistic expectation, she shook her head, filled her cup again

She had almost convinced herself of this when she spotted a small light in the distance. It grew gradually larger. An approaching lantern.

That didn't mean it was Nephele she told herself, climbing down, busying herself lighting lamps.

By the time she had refilled the wine jug, found a second cup, lit every lamp she owned, the figure was close enough to make out.

Kassandra wanted to run downstairs, sprint down the path, meet her halfway.

She resumed her seat on the wall. Put down the wine cup, her hands were shaking too much.

 

“It’s late for a pretty lady to be out unaccompanied,” she called as Nephele approached the house.

“I’m not afraid,” Nephele stopped, held up her lantern, smiled. “I have a handsome misthios to protect me.”

“Indeed?” Kassandra replied, voice husky. “There are wolves in these parts you know?”

“My misthios has killed a mighty bear,” Nephele said softly, right at the base of the wall now.

They looked at each other for long moments.

“May I come up?” Nephele asked at last.

“Please,” Kassandra said hoarsely. “It seems like I’ve waited so long.”

She climbed down off the wall as she heard Nephele’s light step on the stairs and then she was there.

So close that Kassandra could smell her perfume. They stood silently, looking at one another, neither moving.

“Kassandra,” Nephele breathed at last. “You could have been killed.”

There was a hitch in her voice and Kassandra saw her face was wet with tears.

Spell broken she rushed over, gathered Nephele in her arms.

“But I wasn’t,” she stroked her hair, pulled her close, gasping at the sensation of a warm, soft body in her arms.

“You saved his life,” Nephele was sobbing a little. ”He said awful things about you and you saved his life.”

“Well to be fair, he hadn’t said them to my face,” Kassandra said reasonably. She hooked a calloused finger under Nephele’s chin, raised her face, looked in her eyes.

She was so lovely Kassandra thought, her beautiful, sensitive eyes glistening with tears, lips trembling, hands soft against Kassandra’s shoulders.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, desire coiled low in her belly. She rested her forehead against Nephele’s

“Everything worked out all right, my treasure,” she breathed. "There’s nothing to weep about now.”

Nephele ran a tentative hand down Kassandra's arm. She felt her flinch slightly on encountering the scar tissue.

“Do they hurt?” Nephele breathed.

“Not really,” Kassandra shrugged. “They feel a bit tight sometimes, but not painful, no. You can touch them if you like.”

Nephele glanced up at her, eyes bright, lips trembling slightly, her breath was beginning to quicken Kassandra realised.

She felt gentle fingers run along the length of each scar, one at a time. A tremor ran through her body and she gasped a little.

Nephele bent forward, pressed her lips to the new skin.

“You fool,” she breathed. “You big, brave, bull headed, beautiful fool,” she raised her head, slipped a hand around Kassandra’s neck, pulled her down into a kiss.

Kassandra groaned as Nephele’s tongue ran across her lips, opened her mouth to her, tasted wine that she must have drunk with her father, slipped her hands down to Nephele’s hips, pulled her close.

“What were you thinking?” Nephele broke the kiss, drew her head back, smiled fondly. “Mucking out my father’s pigs?” she laughed.

“I didn’t actually think I’d be doing that,” she grinned. “I was thinking how much I wanted him to like me, so that there might be an outside chance that one day we could stand here like this, I suppose.”

“You’re a fool,” Nephele laughed, shook her head fondly.

“So you keep saying,” Kassandra smiled. “And yet here you stand, beautiful lady,” she nosed at Nephele’s neck.

“Want to see my bearskin?” she whispered.

“I’m seeing quite a lot of it already,” Nephele breathed. “But I’d like to see the rest.”

Kassandra laughed delightedly

“I meant my _actual_ bearskin,” she gestured to the pelt. “But both can be arranged.”

Nephele glanced down. Took in the size of the fur.

“Gods’ breath Kassandra,” she paled. “It’s...huge… you idiot.”

“Well this was the one that turned up,” Kassandra smiled. “I could hardly wait for a smaller one. Besides I wanted one that was big enough for two,” she winked.

“So?” Nephele eased herself out of Kassandra’s embrace. “That’s _one_ very impressive bearskin,” she cocked an eyebrow. “What about the other?”

“If you insist,” Kassandra began to slowly remove her underwear, tossing it over to the bed, turning to face Nephele, smiling cautiously.

“Even...even more impressive,” she breathed, eyeing Kassandra hungrily, running her eyes across her broad shoulders, down her well muscled arms, across her small, firm breasts, down the banded muscle of her belly, the deep cut of her hips, the shadowy mysteries of her sex, the long, lean muscles of her thighs.

“Kassandra,” she managed to whisper, huskily, reaching out tentative, trembling fingers.

Kassandra caught her hand, brought it to her mouth, kissed the fingertips, drew them lightly into her mouth, traced them with the tip of her tongue. Then she gently lowered Nephele's hand to her breast, kept hold, guided her wet fingertips around the nipple, hissing a little as it tautened beneath her touch, heard Nephele’s breath catch.

“You looked so beautiful, Kassandra,” she whispered. “I saw you at the dock,” she reached up, ran her fingers slowly through Kassandra’s hair. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

“And then you thought, what in Hades is she doing standing next to my pater?” Kassandra teased gently, pressing Nephele’s hand harder to her breast, encouraging the pressure.

“Well that, yes,” she laughed. “Gods, look at you! I suppose women tell you you’re magnificent all the time, no?” she shook her head in wonder.

“I don’t care,“ Kassandra dipped her head, nipped at Nephele’s neck, below her ear. “Do _you_ think I’m magnificent?” she whispered, her words felt thick in her mouth.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I have ever seen,” Nephele ran a hand down Kassandra’s cheek.

She bent her head to Kassandra’s breast, opening her mouth to take in her nipple, feeling it harden completely beneath her tongue, grazing lightly with the barest edge of teeth, pawing hungrily at her other breast all the while, rejoicing in the needy whining she was drawing from Kassandra.

She opened her mouth wider, sucked harder, taking in as much of her breast as she could, pressing against her, suckling desperately, feeling a quiver run through Kassandra’s flanks.

She stopped, drew back, laughed at Kassandra’s disappointed expression.

“After all the trouble you went to,” she pushed her back a little. "I feel like I owe you a reward. Will you lay down for me? On the skin of your conquest?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Gladly,” Kassandra grinned, suddenly eager. She dropped to the bearskin, displayed herself to best advantage, smiled at Nephele’s appreciative expression.

“Very well then," Nephele smiled archly. “I seem to recall a conversation we had before I left. You made some requests I seem to remember.”

She was untying the cord about her breasts and shoulders. She removed, it, wound it neatly, drawing out the moment, tossed the neat bundle over to the bed to join Kassandra’s underwear. Next she unclipped the fastenings at the shoulders of her robe, looked seductively down at Kassandra, watched as she licked her lips hungrily.

The robe slid to the floor with a soft whisper. Nephele was naked beneath it. She smiled at Kassandra, a little nervous for the first time in the evening. She need not have worried.

Kassandra stared, open mouthed, scrabbled a little inelegantly to her knees, shuffled over to Nephele, gazed up at her adoringly.

“Gods, Nephele," she breathed, reaching out with quivering fingers.

“You’re exquisite,” she brushed lightly over the skin of her belly and thighs, feeling her tremble beneath her touch.

“Just beautiful,” she shuffled closer, pressing herself against her, feeling the soft tickling of the hair at Nephele’s sex against her breast.

She bent her head, kissed her way up Nephele’s belly, up to her breasts, licking wetly at her nipples, teasing the hardening tissue between calloused fingers and thumbs, making her hiss with pleasure.

“Tell me sweetheart,” she looked up at Nephele’s rapt expression. “Tell me how you want me? How have you imagined this? Tell me how you want me to give you pleasure?” she bent her head to her breast again, suckling like a hungry infant, taking hold of the supple flesh of her ass, pulling her close against her.

“Lay me down Kassandra,” Nephele clutched at her hair. “Let me feel you on top of me, show me your strength, let me feel how powerful you are, I’ve missed the feel of you so much, so much.”

Kassandra asked no more.

She wrapped her powerful arms about Nephele, lowered her down onto the bearskin. She knelt above her for a minute or two, running her eyes over her body, the generous swell of her breasts with their taut nipples, the smooth curve of her belly and hips, the dark shadow of her sex.

“Glorious,” she breathed, smiling adoringly. “You are just glorious,” she lowered herself carefully, feeling Nephele sigh as her full weight rested on her at last.

She slid a muscular thigh between Nephele’s legs, smiled at the wet heat against her skin, began to move against her, rocking slowly, rhythmically, feeling Nephele’s fingers clawing at her back as she thrust against her.

Nephele began to rock her hips, whining a little, seeking more friction than Kassandra's leg could provide.

She chuckled fondly, eased her hand between them seeking out the swollen peak of Nephele’s clit, rubbing firmly with the flat of her fingers, driving her hips against her, harder and faster, matching Nephele’s panting breaths, kissing and biting at her breast as she chased her release.

Nephele knotted her fingers in Kassandra's hair, pulled her head up away from her breast, held it firm, stared into her eyes as she ground frantically against her fingers, her rhythm stuttering as she neared her climax, crying out into the night as she came, pulling hard at Kassandra's hair, finally melting beneath her, trembling slightly, gasping hard.

Kassandra gently worked her through the after tremors, rubbing softly at her sex with the flat of her hand, before running wet fingers up to Nephele’s breast and around her nipple, following with her lips, chasing the taste of her on the taut flesh, before wrapping her in a gentle embrace, rolling to one side, pulling Nephele after her, holding her close, kissing her damp brow.

 

“Welcome home,” she said at last, when Nephele’s breathing had slowed.

Nephele laughed softly, rubbed her head against Kassandra’s chest.

“That didn’t feel like much of a reward for you, after all,” she chuckled fondly. “What can I do for you, mighty bear slayer?”

Kassandra was silent for a moment, stroking Nephele's sweaty hair back from her forehead.

“You know my sweet," she said at last. “There’s no hurry. We have all night at last.”

She lay quietly, gazing at the stars, digging her toes into the deep pile of the bear skin as Nephele traced gentle lazy circles on the crest of the hipbone.

"I was thinking," she said at last. "That perhaps we could take Phoibe swimming tomorrow?"


End file.
